Correspondence Corazon
by LosingInTranslation
Summary: Grissom works through Sara’s departure with a little help. GSR Post Ep for 8X07: Goodbye & Goodluck. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**_A/N:_**Wasn't gonna write a post-ep. Haven't been writing anything lately. And then… _Someone_ makes an off-hand remark and throws a Demonic Plot Bunny right into my head. That's right, Beelzabunny is back!

**_ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:_** Immense amount of thanks go to my GuerillaBeta for helping me get this thing off the ground, and for wielding a wicked red pen of death. There is also someone else who deserves the credit for this little monster, and she knows who she is, so we'll leave it at that. .

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

**

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**Chapter 1 **

Walking Hank seems to be the only peace I have anymore, and so our morning walks have gotten progressively longer every day since Sara's abrupt departure. Hank enjoys it, and I have to admit that the exercise is good for me as well, lest we both get fat.

When we rounded the corner of our street, I noticed that the mail truck was parked at the other end of the block. Glancing down at my watch, I realized that the time had gotten away from me again, and it was almost noon. Our little trip had taken nearly three hours this time.

By the time we reached the sidewalk in front of the house, the mailman was meeting us there. The man instantly bent down and began to scratch at Hanks ears, and it quickly became evident that these two were not strangers by the enthusiastic wag of Hank's tail as it thumped into my leg.

"Hey there, little fella…long time no see." I watched as the man reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a dog biscuit to feed to my eager companion. "Yeah, I bet you missed those." He gave Hank a good pat to the side as the dog began to devour the biscuit, and then he stood to greet me.

"I'm guessin' that you must be the Dr. G. Grissom I've been hearing about all this time…" The postman held out his hand, "Pleased to finally meet you. I'm Henry."

Somewhat taken aback by the man's forwardness, I hesitated a moment and then extended my hand in a polite gesture. "Thank you. Nice to meet you as well."

Henry gestured down at the big dark eyes staring up at us and said, "I was beginning to wonder where my buddy Hank had run off to, but I guess the missus is doing some traveling." He handed me a stack of bills with a postcard sitting conspicuously on top. "Glad to see she's gettin' out again." As he walked on to his next delivery, he hollered over his shoulder. "Give her my best, and you two have a great day!"

Absently, I waved the man off, but my line of sight was fixed on that single post card. It was a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge, not that I was actually looking at the picture. I was far more concerned with trying to see through to the other side without touching the card for fear it was merely an illusion that, once touched, would simply disappear from sight.

Not until Hank's soft whimpering reminded me that we still needed to get into the house did I realize that we were standing on the walk. I tried to the shake the feelings of fear and dread, and led the dog into the darkened house. However, my eyes never truly left the post card. I was afraid to let it out of my sight.

Finally, I made myself set the thing down with the other mail and released Hank from his leash. I forced myself to go back into our newfound routine; walk, water, food, bed, work, repeat. Such was the state of my life without Sara, much as it was before, only now I had Hank to remind me not to forget any of the steps.

After putting out a fresh bowl of water, I got to work getting our food ready. Chopping up the appropriate ingredients for his supper, I followed the recipe for the natural dog food Sara discovered after our near miss with the tainted pet food recall last spring. Once she read about the things that were in most pet foods, she was insistent that we change his diet and make the food ourselves. And so, Hank, much to his chagrin, has virtually become a vegetarian. Outside of the butcher bones that I subversively slip to the dog when Sara is at work, the poor thing has been meat free for months. But oddly enough, even without her here, I have continued to follow the routine.

When I placed the bowl onto the floor, I watched as Hank enthusiastically followed it down and began to devour it with an intense voracity. Perhaps I was transferring my own thoughts of deprivation onto the dog, because he really doesn't seem to mind the vegetarian meal. I suppose that he must also be willing to adjust his life, in the name of love.

Thoughts of love immediately brought my full attention back to the post card sitting on the entry table. Foregoing my own food, I made my way back to the card. How could something as innocuous as a post card be the source of so much apprehension and worry?

Overcome with a sudden need for privacy, I took it into the bedroom. I had no idea what was on the card. It could have been something as simple as, "Hey, I'm in San Francisco. Love, Sara," but I wanted it to be mine, and mine alone. And so, I left the sounds of a happily munching dog in favor of the comfortable and quiet surroundings of my bedroom; our bedroom.

As I sat down on the edge of the bed, I reached over and flipped on the lamp before grabbing my glasses from the nightstand. Inhaling sharply, I held the breath for a moment, slipped on my glasses and slowly released the breath. The moment of truth was upon me.

I flipped over the post card and read the small and carefully printed words on the back.

**_SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS _**

_Hi, _

_I won't waste time telling you how sorry I am that I had to leave… We both know that story. Instead, I wanted you to know that I am safe, and I miss you both very much. Try not to let Hank get fat now that I'm not home. _

_Everyone says you should begin at the beginning, but I was never one to follow all the rules, which is why I'm in San Francisco right now. _

_I got a new cell phone, and I hope you don't mind, but I used the house for the address. I'm handling my bills from the computer, so just ignore my mail for now. _

_Please don't call. I'm not ready yet. Soon. _

_I love you, always, _

_Sara _

_H1KKJLNEQX _

**_SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS _**

Working purely on auto-pilot, I reached into my pocket and retrieved the cell phone. I carefully deciphered the lettered code at the bottom of the card and entered the digits into the phone. When I triggered the save function it asked me for a name.

Without any thought at all, I punched the appropriate keys: 222, 666, 777, 2, 9999, 666, 66.

**_

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_****_A/N2:_** Check a standard cell phone keypad to break the code in the last line.


	2. Chapter 2

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**_A/N:_**Thank you all soooooo much for the amazing feedback I received for the first chapter. I was truly blown away by your reactions. And now for the good news... One of my betas has managed to convince me that I shouldn't wait to finish this one, and considering how much I have already written of this thing it really makes sense. So, I will begin posting the chapters as they complete. Being the anal retentive freak that I am, all the chapters have been plotted out and planned, so I basically know how long it will be as well. I hope you all continue to enjoy the piece, and thank you again for reading and commenting. And for those who were worried that I would draw it out until Sara returned to the show (no, I will not believe otherwise, and you can't make me), you can thank GuerillaBeta for pouting, crying and basically shaming me into finishing it right away. :D

A/N2: For the code challenged... The code at the end of Sara's post card was just a replacement code for her new cell phone number, and the "code" with Grissom's title for her number was "Corazon." Corazon is Spanish for Heart.

**_ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:_** Immense amount of thanks go to my GuerillaBeta for helping me get this thing off the ground, and for wielding a wicked red pen of death. There is also someone else who deserves the credit for this little monster, and she knows who she is, so we'll leave it at that. .

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

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**Chapter 2 **

After the postcard's arrival, every day that followed was the same thing. I took Hank for his walk, and no matter what time we got back, we always waited for the mailman before we had our supper and went to bed.

Everyday was one disappointment after another, until a full week had passed. When Hank's pain-filled whimpers began to interrupt my busy work, I finally looked at the time and sank. It was after four in the afternoon, we hadn't eaten, and the postman had never arrived.

As I prepared Hank's food, I happened to glance over at the calendar and I finally understood the problem; Thanksgiving. There would be no mail.

After slipping a piece of turkey from the fridge into Hank's dish, I put it down on the floor and I watched as he gingerly ate around the meat product. It would seem that I wasn't the only one affected by our combined past.

I was scheduled to work, so I went into the bedroom and tried to get a little sleep before my shift.

About ten minutes before my alarm was about to go off, I was still staring at the picture of Sara sitting on my nightstand. She looked happy in the photograph. At least, I thought she did. As the days turned into weeks, I began to question whether I really knew anything about her at all.

Closing my eyes, I hoped to see one of her smiles that I kept tucked away for those moments when I truly needed them to go on. The memories were all I had, and they would have to suffice for the time being.

Before I could open them again, the images of her radiant face flowing through my mind's eye my cell phone bleated with another of those insistent text messages that come to me through dispatch. Obviously, it was going to be an early night.

Throwing my arm out to retrieve the phone, I managed to knock it onto the floor, forcing me to rise from my fitful rest. As I got myself upright, I reached for my glasses and took a deep breath before finding out the bad news for the night.

_Sent: 11/22/2007 8:51 PM _

_CORAZON 4155556379 _

_Thank you… For letting me love you. _

My fingers hovered over the keys for what seemed like an eternity. The power of that simple statement clouding my vision, I struggled to find the words to respond to her quiet gesture.

With thick fingers, not meant for such conveyances, I clumsily struck at the keys:

_Reply: _

_CORAZON 4155556379 _

_We can only learn to love by loving. -Iris Murdoch. Thank you for being my greatest teacher. _


	3. Chapter 3

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**_A/N:_**I know that last one was a little short, but as anyone who has read my stuff will tell you, that's not likely to happen very much. :p I am still a little blown away by the responses, and it is definitely feeding the fires beneath me. Thank you all, and keep it coming!

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

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**Chapter 3 **

I found myself checking my cell phone when it remained silent for too long. Without even realizing it, I would fish the phone out of my pocket, check the screen, find nothing, verify that the sound was on, and then return it to my pocket. I'll never know how many times a day that little routine took place, but after another week with no word from Sara, I can only imagine it numbered in the thousands.

The mailman seemed to have noticed that I've been staking out the mailbox nearly every day, because when he arrives he only gives Hank his dog biscuit and shakes his head at me. I know that he's politely letting me know there was nothing from Sara in the day's mail. It feels like an exercise in futility, but I simply cannot stop myself. I still hold out hope that something will be there, that she'll send me a message, something.

Work is still work, and the evil of man continues to exist without Sara by my side, so I must do what I can to stem the tide of violence in this city. It's all I can do to keep from dropping everything and going after her. Work, the thing that seemed to break down the last of her walls, is the one thing holding me together right now. Work and the slobbering creature asleep at my feet.

Hank, despite my best intentions, has managed to gain two pounds. The vet asked if I had changed his diet any, and to my surprise, I can honestly say that I haven't. The only thing that I can put my finger on is the dog biscuits, and I've stopped giving him any myself, in the hope that will do the trick.

Our walks have slowed down. He doesn't seem to have the same enthusiasm for those morning constitutionals. And the only time his strides take on their former fervor are when we turn back and head back to the house. When we turn the corner of our street he will pull a little on the leash again, but the moment I open the door to the house and he sticks his head in to sniff, Hank just drops his head and dejectedly walks across the tiles to the kitchen. It's the same way I feel every time I walk into the house and fail to find Sara waiting for me there.

While I understand Sara's need to make peace with her past, it still hurts that she couldn't share her pain with me before it overwhelmed her. I would have been there for her, and supported her through anything she needed. And that is why I force myself to stay behind, instead of running after her. She needed to do this on her own, and I know that, but it still pains me to be the one left behind.

I want nothing more than to take her into my arms and make all the evils of the world vanish before her, but I know that's impossible. Sara needs to put to rest the demons of her past if we're ever to have a future together. I just wish that it was something we could do together. I never realized until now how very much Sara has become my life; my heart.

When I went away on sabbatical I was floundering under the weight of my own demons, and I knew that if I didn't lay them to rest, once and for all, that I could never be the man Sara deserved. I couldn't subject her to the darkness that existed within my heart, and so I went away before I hurt her more deeply than could ever be forgiven.

However, what I had never counted on was the fact that I still managed to hurt her. I was so blinded by my own pain that I failed to recognize Sara's. It was the only part of my sabbatical that I regret, and I did everything in my limited power to earn her forgiveness and trust once again.

We worked together to regain that trust, and I believe we had achieved that when…Natalie.

My heart was ripped out of my chest the moment I realized Natalie had placed Sara in her sights. And if it wasn't for the fact that I had to work to find and rescue Sara, I would have fallen completely apart with the knowledge that she was in danger simply for loving me; for being loved by me.

I will never be able to thank the heavens and the men and women in our department for even a fraction of the gratitude I felt when Sara looked up at me and squeezed my hand in that helicopter. I made a promise in that moment; I would do anything required to insure Sara's safety and happiness, all the rest of my days. And right now, that means I have to stay behind, acting as a caretaker for the home we created with each other and our little canine ward, and as the keeper of the light that I hope will one day guide her back into my arms.

My days off are filled with busy work. I take care to keep the house clean and orderly, and I make certain that Hank is continuously well groomed. His weekly bath has become less of a combat mission as time goes on, and we two men in waiting are doing our best to make sure we are in good shape when the lady of the house returns.

When all the chores are done, I settle in behind my computer and search for things I believe Sara would like, and sometimes I order the ones that particularly strike my attention. Checking my email for the status of an auction I was attempting to win, I found an unusual message.

**_SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS _**

_Not Much Here _

_From: _

_Fri. 2007-11-30 16:38 _

_To: _

_Gil- _

_I've been in San Francisco for weeks now, and I can't even remember why I came here anymore. Barely anyone even knows who I was, and frankly, I'm not sure who I was before I left here either. _

_It's almost as though I was only here as a weigh station; a place to measure my progress, but never really putting down any roots. Did you know that in the whole time I lived here, I never actually unpacked my boxes? Apparently, the ghost I lived with in San Francisco was me. _

_I'm sitting in a cyber-café near on the waterfront right now, and I'm trying to figure out where I'm going next. There's nothing left for me here. I don't think there ever was anything for me here. _

_When I figure out where I'm going, and get there, I'll send you another postcard. Maybe some day we can look back at them and remember it as something good that happened. I really want to believe that, Gil. _

_I wanted this first email to be more profound than it's turning out, but I guess it is what it is. I've never been able to express myself with flowery words, or poetic turns of phrase. I'll leave that to you. _

_Know that you are never far from my thoughts, and I can only hope that I remain in yours. Thank you for your understanding, and for not coming after me. It means more to me than you could ever imagine. I know that I need to do this on my own, and I sincerely hope that when it's all over, I can be ready to come back to the only home I've ever known. _

_I love you, always, _

_-Sara _

_PS-Don't let the mailman give Hank a biscuit every day. He'll get fat in no time, because Henry always slips him more than one. _

**_SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS _**

I actually chuckled as I read the post script, even through the tears that flowed down my face. Only Sara would pour out her heart in an email, and still find something to tease me about.

After more than an hour of reading and re-reading the email several times over, I finally found the ability to reply.

**_GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG _**

_From: _

_Fri. 2007-11-30 19:11 _

_To: _

_Subject: RE: Not Much Here _

_Sara- _

_Thank you. It was a tremendous relief to receive your email. I was also deeply touched by your previous correspondence. Regardless of how much faith I have in your abilities, I still worry. _

_I'm happy that you are making progress in your journey, even if they seem like such small achievements now. It is my sincerest wish that each step in your journey will bring you that much closer to the life we hoped to share. _

_Hearing from you has given light and weight to my heart. The light comes from knowing that you are safe and making strides to lay to rest the ghosts from your past. The weight comes from pain that I can sense in your careful words. I wish I had the power to make it all go away, so that you could come home to us and we could move on into our future. However, nothing worth winning was ever won so easily, without the pain of our labors. _

_Know this… You are in my every thought and deed, and you are the source of my ability to draw breath. You are my heart, Sara. Please take care of yourself so that you may one day return what you have taken on this journey, that thing that I have given to you freely; my heart. _

_Right now, you are but a weary river, winding your way through time and space, trying to find the source of your life. I am but the sea that your love feeds with its flowing waters, ever thankful that you are the source of my life. _

_Loving you, always, _

_-Gil _

_PS-You're two pounds too late about the mailman. But at least now I know the source. _

**_GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG _**

After hitting send I waited with my breath firmly lodged in my chest on the unlikely chance that she was still in front of her computer. And that was where I fell asleep until Hank got up to lick my face because he was thirsty at three in the morning.

I checked one last time for a response before I closed down the computer and took care of my anxious housemate's beverage needs.


	4. Chapter 4

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**_A/N: _**Took me a little longer to write another chapter and I got behind on my graphics, so I didn't get this chapter up until now. The response is still making me do a little dance every time I post, so I wanted to make sure I extended my thanks to everyone for their kind words as I keep plugging away at this one. THANK YOU!

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

**

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**Chapter 4 **

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since her email. Two weeks since I replied to her email, and nothing. Not a post card, not a text message, not an email, nothing. Twice I have picked up the phone, prepared to call the chief inspector at the San Francisco PD and report her missing, but each time I had to remind myself that Sara is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and if anything happened she would have told me right away.

But...what if she's hurt and can't contact me?

That's ridiculous and I need to stop. It's just very difficult not to jump to conclusions in the absence of any meaningful data with which to analyze. I just need to hear from her to know that she's okay.

I was just tired. Exhaustion is always a contributing factor when it comes to irrational behavior and thoughts. Two high profile cases, back to back, and I haven't actually been home in two days. But that was about to change.

Pushing through the door, I was met by the at once anxious, and then fallen face of my canine comrade in arms. I've begun to believe that Hank has taken all of this even harder than I. He's been moping around for weeks, and he actually growled at me when I tried to throw his blanket into the wash. But then of course, I never imagined that my dog would have a security blanket.

It was Sunday, and therefore no mail, so after an extended shift, the only thing I wanted to do was crawl into bed and pretend to sleep until the next shift. Thankfully the sitter had been taking care of Hank until an hour before my arrival. The plan was that I would be home by then, but plans rarely seem to work lately, and I was caught up in one of Catherine's little tirades, so I missed Hank's return after two days. After two days, I expected a better homecoming, but even I have to admit that I am a poor substitute for the one he truly misses.

After crouching down to greet my faithful, if not enthusiastic friend, I notice the light on my answering machine blinking. It instantly struck me as odd, because almost no one called that number anymore. I had only kept the landline to use with the TDD phone for calls with my mother, and I just hadn't removed it following her passing.

Once Hank trotted off to go back to his bed and his blanket, I got up and went to the answering machine. Before I hit the playback button, I made sure to dial up the volume again. We normally kept the volume shut all the way off, because the only calls we typically got on the landline were sales calls, and who wanted to be disturbed from sleep by those.

_**"BEEEeeeeeeep… Gil, I hope you check the machine… Anyway, I'm sorry I didn't send you anything when I got here, but I got caught up. After I put the post card in the mail, I realized it had been two weeks since our emails. Your reply is still on my computer, I think it's turning into a book…"**_ She chuffed into the phone, and I could hear other voices in the background.

_**"I ran into an old acquaintance at Berkeley, and he invited me to help with something out in L.A., so that's where I am. I'm sorry if you were worried, but I just got caught up in this thing. You know how that is…"**_ Sara's voice became muffled for a moment, and he could tell that she had spoken to someone else with her hand over the phone. _**"Okay, I gotta go… Post card's in the mail, and I'll finish the email…eventually. I love you, always. Bye."**_

The sound of her voice relieved a huge weight from my heart. The tone of her voice gave it wings. Sara sounded…happy. As tired as I was before playing the message, it did not stop me from listening to it over and over again. And it was good to see Hank wagging his tail as her excited voice echoed off of the walls of our home.

Three days of making sure I was home when the mailman arrived wasn't easy to explain. Especially when I had to leave in the middle of one of the inane meetings Conrad is so fond of calling, but it was a necessary evil. The voice message was a welcome gesture, but I needed something tangible to hold onto. I needed to feel that post card in my hands.

When Hank and I saw Henry walking toward our house, we both picked up our pace to meet the man. I cannot imagine that Hank knew Sara's post card would be there, since I am sure he was just looking for the dog biscuits, but I liked to believe that he was just as anxious for something from her as well.

As we approached the Postal Service worker, Henry held out the post card and waved it at me. "Looks like she's on the move again, Dr, G."

He handed me the post card and bent down to scratch at Hank's ears as I pretended not to notice the dog biscuit he slipped into his mouth. I thanked the friendly man for the mail and called Hank to follow me into the house. I was not about to read her post card on the street, in front of another man and my entire neighborhood. No, I needed privacy to gaze upon her words.

Once inside the door, Hank jumped up onto me and became quite insistent that he needed his water, and it was more than obvious to me that he was not willing to wait. I stuffed the card into my shirt pocket and set about to take care of the needs of a most impatient canine.

Sitting down at my desk, away from the sounds of slurping water, I took in a deep breath and tried to clear my head before reaching for the post card. With my eyes closed, and my pulse beginning to ramp up, I put on my glasses and prepared to gaze upon her words. With one more deep breath I got ready to open my eyes.

I opened my eyes and grabbed for the card stuffed into my pocket. First thing I saw was the familiar post card style with the name of the city in big outlined print, with photos interspersed within the print and the phrase; Greetings from… However, flipping it over, I found a far more welcome sight.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_2007-12-6 _

_Gil, _

_Surprise! I'm in L.A. I wasn't planning on it, but an opportunity presented itself, & I jumped at it. _

_I went to see Dr. Rodriquez at Berkeley, & instead of catching up on the evils of higher education, I ended up working in an applied mathematics analysis of a building explosion with one of the brightest minds in all of science. I forgot how much I liked working in physics. Best yet, it was this case for the FBI's L.A. field office, so it had everything I was looking for when I left physics. _

_Sorry about taking so long to get this out, but it was a time sensitive analysis, & I just lost track. However, I can tell you that I'll be catching a flight to Boston at the end of the week. Wish me luck with New England in December! _

_I Love You, Always, _

_Sara _

_PS-Don't forget Hank's shots are due this month, & your physical is due before the 1st. _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

The smile on my face was impossible to suppress. It would appear that my earlier conclusion about her state of mind had been confirmed. Sara really did appear to be happy, and better than that, she seemed to be making fantastic progress.

As I got ready for bed I placed it on the nightstand beside her picture, where the other postcard and a printout of her email rested. My nightstand was quickly becoming a little shrine, but I felt it was important to keep these things close to me. I needed to see them before I could close my eyes to sleep. I needed to see them when I opened my eyes every day. Since she wasn't physically beside me, I needed to at least have a part of her close to me.

However, with my head resting on the pillow, my eyes looked on her enthusiastic words once more, and for the first time in weeks, I was able to drift right off to sleep. My dreams were filled with visions of Sara in the snow of New England, her knit cap snug over her ears, her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck and tucked into that ridiculous pea coat, and the steam escaping from her mouth as she smiled broadly.


	5. Chapter 5

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**_A/N: _**In case anyone is interested, I am posting these chapters to Geek Fiction the night before they are posted here, and those posts also contain some graphics. Feel free to check those out as well. Also, thanks to the holiday weekend here in the States, I may not be running a daily entry all weekend.

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

**

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**Chapter 5 **

After spending an entire week immersed in the twisted and perverse world of white slavery, I didn't think anything could take the feeling of being unclean away from me. That was, until I started flipping through the bills that had been left unattended during the case. There, stuck between a take-out flyer for Sara's favorite vegan restaurant and a bill from the veterinarian's office was a collage of photographs and graphics depicting the history of Boston. Sara's post card had arrived. I smiled for the first time in week.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_2007-12-10 _

_Gilbert, _

_I now remember why I decided to move back to California for grad school. New England SUCKS IN DECEMBER! _

_That being said, I've been making some real strides in re-connecting with the person I once was. And you know what? Even SHE misses you. _

_I've got a few things I need to do here, but it shouldn't take too long. I'll let you know when I'm moving on, but I'm still not sure where that is yet. _

_Take care of yourself, and make sure the boy doesn't forget me completely. _

_I Love You, Always, _

_Sara _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

As happy as I was to see the post card, I took only one thing away from the entire thing; she missed me. I fell asleep that day clutching her post card to my heart.

Sara misses me.

I woke from the best sleep I had gotten in weeks. Between the exhaustion and the message on the post card, I felt a calm that had been missing from my life ever since Sara left. When I rose from bed, I decided it was time to get a few things done around the house.

The sheets were stripped from the bed and dumped into the wash. But when I removed the new ones from the linen closet I was overcome with dread. I stopped to smell the sheets before placing them on the bed. The scent of fresh sheets has always been a stimulating experience for me, but filling my nose with their scent I was struck dumb by the absence of another aroma: Sara.

Not that the clean sheets smelled of her, but there was something unmistakable about the way in which she laundered them. And as I tried to pinpoint the exact distinction, I realized that I had never questioned her about the phenomenon before. I simply delighted in the fact that she enjoyed doing the laundry. Sara cleaned clothes and I cleaned dishes. It always seemed like such an ideal arrangement. That was…until I could no longer sense her touch in the bed linens.

I spent the rest of the day tidying things up, but a dark cloud had found its way over my head. Sara had been gone long enough that the traces of her were vanishing from our home, and I suddenly longed for my own security blanket.

Hank's blanket was not just something to keep him warm. It was also the blanket that he played tug of war with when Sara woke up everyday. It was nothing for me to come home and find the two of them on the floor, comically fighting over the tattered scrap of fleece material. The only time Hank was willing to put his blanket down was when they went for their runs. And it was the only laundry I had done for a long time. The moment they were out the door, I would dump the disgusting, drool soaked blanket into the wash. By the time they returned, it would be ready to pull from the dryer. Hank would always circle it, trying to figure out why it was warm and smelled of lilacs, but the moment Sara reached for it, the fight was on again. That was home to me…Sara and Hank scuffling around on the floor, just waiting for me to break their stalemate with the call for dinner.

His nails snapping over the tiles as he ambled into the kitchen at my call, I watched for a few minutes as Hank dutifully ate his dinner. I should have been fixing dinner for myself, but I just didn't have any appetite. Instead, I decided to go clean out my email inbox.

I had no way of knowing that I would find her email waiting there, but I was happy to find it. However, there was also a little apprehension before I finally decided to open it. Somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, I still had the smallest corner of doubt. What if, instead of Sara's journey freeing her to be with me, it was leading her away from us?

Forcing the doubt back into my subconscious, I opened the email.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_RE: Not Much Here _

_From: _

_Fri. 2007-12-14 04:38 _

_To: _

_Gil- _

_I've been trying to respond to your reply ever since I first opened it, but it always seems to turn into some rambling apology or massive rationalization for what I've done…for what I'm doing. But what it boils down to is that I really don't know what I'm doing, and that's okay. I only know that I could never have a future with you, or even myself, if I didn't put to rest these ghosts in my past. I can only hope you understand that, and that some day you can forgive me for leaving the way I did. _

_I keep thinking about our last kiss. I didn't intend to do that, there in the lab like that, but when I saw you, I just lost the last of my restraint. And without the power to speak, I just needed you to know how I felt about you. But now, when I think about it, I wonder and worry that I've failed you somehow, failed us. _

_I should have talked to you about what was going on, but I kept telling myself that I could get through it. I convinced myself that you'd already been through so much, and the last thing I wanted was to worry you anymore. Looking back through your email, I realize what a moronic thing that was, and I am sorry for not confiding in you sooner. _

_It would be easy to just blame it on habit, but the truth is that I was afraid to share it with anyone, including myself. I didn't want to admit that I was falling apart, that I was slipping away. Not slipping away from you, because you were the one thing holding me to…everything; Vegas, the job, the world, myself. No, I was afraid that if I said anything, it would all just come crumbling down around me, and I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you with that kind of mess. _

_While I'm not exactly sure what it is that I'm looking for, I know in my heart that I have to do this on my own. I can't spend my life hiding from the past any longer. I can't run forever, Gil. Eventually, I would have run straight into another brick wall and I wanted to make sure that I wasn't reduced to a broken pile of pieces again. You deserve a lot more than being my clean up crew. This is one mess I need to clean up on my own. _

_Before I sat down to work on this email again, I was digging through my suitcase for a t-shirt to sleep in. And before I knew what was going on, I was in a panic, because I couldn't find that stupid raggedy Berkeley t-shirt I always wear. That was when I remembered where I left it, and I fell on the floor crying. It just hit me all at once how long it had been since I last wore it, and how much I just wanted to crawl into it and bury myself beneath the comforter, close to your side. _

_I felt like a complete fool for falling apart because of a t-shirt, but to me it represents so much more than a faded, battered shirt. To me, that shirt is you. I've had that shirt since the first day we met. On my way to the seminar I was attacked by an overeager and very muddy retriever out on the quad. I had to duck into the campus bookstore to grab another shirt. I was hoping for at least a polo shirt or maybe a pullover, but they were waiting for an order, so all they had where those athletic gray gym shirts. I felt like an idiot for walking into a professional seminar dressed like a freshman slob, but at least I could close up my leather jacket and hope no one would catch sight of the letters emblazoned over my chest. _

_Arriving late to the seminar was probably not the best way to hide in obscurity, but I tried to make the best of it. Before your lecture was half over, I was completely lost in the whole thing, and I never gave another thought to my shirt. Well, not until you busted me on it. When you looked at me through those damn lashes, gestured at my shirt and asked me, "Laundry day?" I swear I nearly died right there. And when I fumbled over my explanation, you laughed. It was that laugh that did me in. Putting that with those dangerous blue eyes of yours and I was toast. And it was all because of that stupid shirt. _

_The shirt was obviously relegated to sleepwear only, but it never ceased to be important to me. I was wearing that shirt the first time you kissed me, and the first time you tugged it off of me in the heat of passion is still etched in my memories, but most of all, I remember the feel of that tattered cotton pressed against my skin with your arms wrapped securely around me as we slept, and it feels like home. _

_I'm sorry to ramble on like that, but I couldn't think of any other way to tell you just how much I miss you. I do miss you, Gil. Every hour of every day, you are in my thoughts, and you will always be in my heart. _

_On to news of my trip to Boston… _

_There isn't much for me here, but I am glad that I came. It reminded me how unhappy I was here, and why I left. However, I found out something else while I was here… My brother came looking for me. _

_I know that I never talk about my family, and I thank you for never forcing the issue. There's just so much pain in those stories, that it's hard to find the good in any of it. But my brother is a topic I even more rarely talk about. Jack was my only hero as a little girl, and when I found out he was no hero it shattered my whole world. And I've always carried a lot of guilt around about the way he left us. I blamed myself for getting him into trouble, and for making him want to leave. And I blamed him for leaving me there when he did go. _

_Anyway, I guess he came around here a while back to try and find me, but none of the professors knew where I'd gone to after Berkeley. Seems once I dropped out of academia, I dropped off of everyone's radar, too. Professor Duckworth (don't laugh too hard with that one) couldn't find the card he left, since it was several years ago, but she did remember that he was in the Navy, and she thought he was in Virginia. So, I've got a friend in D.C. and they're going to see if they can't help me find him. Which means I'm getting ready to head down to D.C. on the next bus. _

_It'll be a couple days before I can get any response that you might send. Not that I'm expecting one. I just wanted you to know that it might be a while before I can get back to the net. _

_I don't know where this next phase of the trip is going to take me, but I just feel like it's important that I see Jack, and try to get rid of this guilt. He's also the only one who can tell me if my memories of our childhood are real, because he's the only one left who was there. I'm sometimes afraid that I've made it all up, and the whole thing is one big delusion mired in insanity. I need him to tell me I'm not crazy, Gil. I really do. _

_Give Hank a big hug for me, and don't forget about his heartworm pill this month. I left it taped it to the cabinet door where we keep his food, so I wouldn't forget. And if my mail is piling up too bad, just stuff it in a box in the garage. I'm sorry for having left you with such a mess at home, but I'm not staying anywhere long enough to really take mail. _

_I hope you're taking care of yourself, too. I really do miss you, Gil, and I sincerely hope that I can figure this whole thing out, so that I can come home. You are my home, and coming back to you is the goal I am working for. _

_I Love You, Always, _

_-Sara _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

I printed off the email, folded it up and went to my nightstand. Propping it up next to her other correspondence, I reached into the drawer and withdrew the thing which had become my security blanket, ever since I found it wedged between the mattress and the headboard.

I spent the rest of the night curled up in bed with Hank, as we held Sara's t-shirt between us.


	6. Chapter 6

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**_A/N: _**Sorry, I've been dealing with a little dental/medical emergency over the holiday weekend, and so it took me a little longer to get everything together. I hope you enjoy the new chapter and thank you all for your patience.

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

**

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**

**Chapter 6 **

At the end of another long shift, the last thing I wanted was to walk around the neighborhood with an over-active boxer, but I did it anyway. After all, he was technically my dog, and it's not like Sara had never run with the boy when she was tired, or complained very much when Hank would jump on her to get her to pay attention to him. Sacrifices had to be made when you were responsible for another living being.

When Hank and I came in through the back door, he calmly walked over to his bed and plopped down. Apparently I wasn't the only one merely doing my duty with those walks.

I made his food, put it and some fresh water down on the kitchen floor, and tidied up. Standing there with my hands propped on the counter, I could only stare off into space for a little while. I was still thinking about the email Sara had sent me; the email that was still up on the computer screen on my desk, the email I had yet to write a reply for.

Eventually, Hank found a little bit of an appetite and ambled over to the food dish, and I was finally broken from my stupor. I realized that since we had come in through the back door, the mail still needed to be retrieved.

I wasn't expecting anything beyond the normal round of bills, the Academy of American Forensics Journal that should be delivered sometime soon, and the now familiar plethora of catalogs. It would seem that ordering things on the internet means that you want to receive ridiculous amounts of junk mail and catalogs. 

As I flipped through the mail I fumbled with the catalog showcasing the newest fashions in the world of industrial coveralls and sent several pieces of mail skittering across the floor. I was still crouched down on the floor trying to retrieve the fallen items when Hank decided to investigate the situation.

He sniffed around a little until his attention seemed to become focused on the floor beneath the entry table. I felt around and came across a card.

When I lifted it into my sight, I was not prepared for what I saw. It bore the words, "Shipyard, People, Technology" and it carried the images of a row of naval vessels, a radar screen and a U.S. Navy honor guard. My first thought was that someone was seriously mistaken in trying to send a recruitment flyer to this house, but when I flipped it over and saw Sara's familiar handwriting I scrambled awkwardly to my feet and went in search of my glasses.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_2007-12-17 _

_Gil, _

_I've barely got time to drop this post card in the mail before I head out again. _

_I made it to D.C., only to have my friend meet me at the bus station & drive me down here to Norfolk. It seems Jack was scheduled to ship out the next day, but he actually left sooner, so we just missed him. _

_It wasn't all bad though, because I did get to meet his ex-wife. Very long story & no time to explain, because I'm headed to BWI to catch a flight that will eventually get me to Italy. Wish me luck! And thanks for making me keep my passport up to date. _

_I Love You, Always, _

_Sara _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

I was having trouble understanding this new information, because it just seemed so out of character for Sara to make such a rash decision. In a day's time she had gone from Boston, to D.C., to Norfolk, VA, and then on to Italy. It was hard to fathom, and it was even harder to take. She was getting farther and farther away.

I sat down at the desk and tried to put to words all of the things that were swirling around in my mind.

_**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG **_

_Sara, _

_I want to be happy for you, and I want to support you in this journey you are undertaking. I want these things, because you want them. But the truth is that I also want you to come home, to be here, to be safe and to never be far from my grasp. How am I to reconcile these two halves of my heart? What am I say to you when you tell me of your search? _

_Everyday, I ache to see you, to hold you, to breathe in your scent as we wake for the day. I do understand that you need to do these things, but I also know that I am fighting to hold onto myself with every passing day. This trial in our lives has taught me one undeniable fact; I desperately need you in my life, Sara. _

_Please come h _

_**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG **_

Before I could write anymore, I stopped myself. Reading those last words, I was overcome with a deep sense of shame. I choked back the emotion firmly lodged in my throat and placed my index finger over the backspace key as I shut my eyes against the painful truth of those words.

When I opened them, the field was once again blank, and I switched off the monitor. Another day to think about my response was probably the best course of action.

My sleep, if you could call it that, was filled with a thousand different emailed responses, and the various actions I envisioned resulting from them. I was horrified by the selfish streak I seemed to have developed when it came to Sara. So concerned with my own predicament, I was willing to allow her to live in the pain and misery of her emotional identity crisis, simply to keep her at my side and dependent upon my perceptions of her worth; that would have been my greatest sin, and my biggest mistake.

Thank the heavens I was able to restrain myself from completing the selfish, self serving and desperately pleading email that broke from my control before. That email would have done far more damage than any other thing I could have done to her, and I owe Sara so much more than that.

In the end, it all boiled down to one thing; this has nothing to do with me. This is about Sara needing to find herself, to find her own terra firma, to know who and what she is, and possibly to understand a little of how and why she got there.

I went back to the computer and flipped on the monitor as I sat down to finally write that email.

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_Sara, _

_Your kiss is the first thing on my mind when I wake, and every time I close my eyes; never apologize for that kiss. That kiss is what keeps me going, even in my darkest hours. That kiss is one of the many reasons I am willing to support you on this journey, because I long for the day when you return, and I can have those kisses again. _

_I hope that you find what you are looking for with your brother. I have always restrained from asking about him, because the few times you spoke of him I could sense the overwhelming pain in your words. Perhaps he can reassure your mind and your memories. It is my sincerest wish that you find him, and the answers you seek. However, even if you fail to find a single answer, know that you will always have a place in my heart, and in my arms. _

_I found your shirt, and in finding it, I was transported to the last time you wore it. Vividly, in my mind's eye, I could see the way your untamed curls rested on your shoulder, the unraveled seam just below your hair, and the freckles which peeked out between the strands. I also remembered how it was that I came to find it wedged between the mattress and headboard, which is, as I recall, entirely my fault. _

_However, I cannot guarantee its condition when you return, as it is most likely to smell very much like old man and bad dog, since Hank and I are spending most nights fighting over who gets to sleep next to it. We also regret to inform you that, upon your return, certain obedience training may need to be repeated, as I am currently sharing sleeping accommodations with a certain canine companion. And as a side note, he is the bed hog in this scenario, so I believe it could be considered obedience training for me, instead of a lapse in Hank's. _

_Outside of the sleeping arrangements, Hank and I are doing well, though we both miss you horribly. We go for long walks every chance we get, and we've both managed to lose a little weight. The only thing missing from our lives is you. We both look forward to the day when you return to us. _

_I love you, Sara. More now than ever before, because I know the strength it required for you to embark on this journey. Though I regret we could not do it together, I do not regret your actions. I only wish for the speedy and satisfying completion of your quest for self-discovery. And whomever you turn out to be, know that I will be here, waiting for you to return, just as you waited so long for me to find myself. I love you, Sara, whoever you are. _

_Loving You, Always, _

_Gil _

_**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**_A/N: _**Looks like I am finally back on track with the writing. Amazing what can be done when you can see out of both eyes and not go deaf everytime you sit up. :p I've made some great progress on the story, so the chapters should be on schedule again. Thanks for your patience and all the wonderful comments.

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

**

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**

**Chapter 7 **

Completely surrounded by various brown paper packages bearing the names of retailers from all over the internet was not how I thought I would spend my Christmas this year. I was convinced it would be spent far away from the lights of Las Vegas, curled up in front a large fireplace, a glass of mulled wine in one hand and Sara in the other as we spent the holiday in quiet repose at the cabin I rented for us. It was supposed to be our honeymoon.

When the woman from the rental company called to confirm our reservation I was floored. In the chaos surrounding Sara's leaving, I had all but forgotten about our little vacation. And with that phone call, it was brought back to me in full living color. As I cancelled the reservation I felt as though another small piece of me died.

My situation was made even more difficult by the fact that I was being forced to take the vacation days I had scheduled for the trip. Catherine stepped in and told Conrad that I needed some time away from the lab, and apparently she needed some time away from me as well. I was informed that I needed to get my head on straight, or she would administer a suitable punishment for my crimes. Actually, the wording she used was far more common, and just a touch a vulgar, but I've come to expect as much from her.

As I looked around at my living room, I began to wonder if internet shopping hadn't become my escape from reality. How could one person make so many purchases without realizing what he was doing? But as I watched Hank crunch and devour one of the green dog bones I had found for his atrocious breath, I decided that all internet shopping wasn't so bad.

Rising to my feet, I came to the conclusion that all of the boxes needed to be sorted, properly stacked, and stowed in order to clear all of the clutter from the room. I was actually surprised the mess had not bothered me until then. But it probably had more to do with the fact that I wasn't spending any time in the living room. There just never seemed to be a point anymore.

I scanned the room for all of the boxes marked with the sideways smile logo of an incredibly addictive internet retailer and began to stack them all up in one corner. Next, in order of prevalence were the boxes marked with that circular letter logo, another dealer for multitudes of items I never knew we needed. After that, it became a far less daunting task; a small bookseller here and there, a natural products company, a law enforcement supply house, and a smattering of trinkets and collectibles found on that most heinous of auction sites.

Once everything was neatly stacked, I glanced down at my watch and discovered that it was nearing the time Henry would be dropping by for the final delivery before Christmas. It was the morning of Christmas Eve, and this would be my last chance to reward the man who had been tending to my shopping addiction, as well as my anxious waiting for anything from Sara.

Actually, Henry delivered part of the Christmas bonus on Saturday. I had begun to worry it would not arrive in time, and even contacted the seller again to confirm it had been shipped. It was a signed, commemorative baseball card from Hank Aaron. It wasn't vintage or anything, but it was something I felt he would appreciate. After all, Hammerin' Hank is the common thread that drew him to Sara and our Hank, so I felt the gesture was warranted. And despite all of Sara's insistences from the Christmas before, I still included a check for the man. She was certain that giving him something as impersonal as a check was inappropriate. However, knowing that these men and women must endure far more than their pay provides for, I couldn't imagine that he didn't have any use for an extra fifty dollars for his troubles, especially after the mass of packages that had been delivered in the last couple months.

I put Hank on his leash and we both went to spend a little quality time out front, waiting for Henry to make his delivery. The sun was shining today, and it made our attempts at levity pleasant. Hank chased the ball a few times, and ran around me once or twice, but in the end we just had a seat and quietly read the paper as we waited.

When Henry finally pulled his truck up in front of our house, I wondered why he wasn't walking his normal route. I also began to scan my memories to see if there was some other massive package yet to be delivered, but my mind drew a blank. As he jumped out of his truck, I had to fight to restrain my laughter. The man was actually wearing a Santa cap with a brim on his head and a bright red and green scarf around his neck.

"Dr. G! Have I got something for you!" he called out from the truck with such an excited tone that I, too, was caught up in the moment. When he approached, Henry was carrying a digital clipboard and one of those cardstock mailers. "This must've been pretty darned important for her to send it Global Express, all the way from Italy. That's a serious chunk of change, ya know."

He handed me the clipboard and I signed for the envelope. The whole thing occurred in a blur, and I was simply happy that Henry seemed to still have all of his faculties. In my haste to sign for Sara's package, I almost forgot our gift for Henry. It wasn't until the man knelt and began scratching at Hank's ears that I remembered.

Quickly, I fished the envelope out of my jacket pocket and, when Henry stood, I held it out. I hoped that I didn't look nearly as awkward as I felt. Thankfully, the gracious man never gave any indication that I had made such a mess of the offering.

He thanked me generously and shook my hand before reaching into his own pocket. When he held up a colorful cellophane bundle of dog biscuits he grinned from ear to ear and then said, "Don't worry, Doc… The wife made these special for the little guys on my route. She says they're much better than the ones I give 'em now. Supposed to be healthier or somethin'. I don't know about that, but I've never met a dog that didn't love some peanut butter." He dropped the bag into my open hand and tipped his cap before walking back to the truck. As he climbed up into the truck he called out, "Merry Christmas, Dr. G. and here's to a happier New Year!"

For several long moments I stared after the amiable postman, nearly forgetting about the items in my tight grasp. That changed when Hank reminded me with a rather demanding bark that I had something belonging to him.

Once inside the house, I gave Hank one of the pungent, obviously homemade dog biscuits in the shape of a mailbox, and I left him to consume it in peace. I held the envelope in an iron grip and made my way to the couch.

As I sat down, I noticed that there was something decidedly not a letter in the package. It was hard, and slightly round, though it felt like there was some kind of padding wrapped around it. Squeezing the envelope between my fingers, I continued to try and discern the item from the outside, instead of opening it up to see the thing. It was an act of futility, but I had a sense of foreboding doom regarding the contents of such a precious envelope.

My stalemate was broken when Hank had finished his Christmas biscuit and came into the living room to inspect my present. After a few sniffs of the envelope in my hands, he laid his head down over my knee and gave me that look that always melted any resolve I had. I patted his head and thanked him for the encouragement. "Okay, Boy… We'll open it together."

With a quick and fluid pull, the envelope was opened. The only left to do was to look inside. I reached in to retrieve the contents and found what felt like a greeting card and another envelope, but that one was of a standard variety. Carefully, I slipped them both from inside, but despite my care, another item fell from the envelope and into my lap. After a few moments of trying to keep Hank from inhaling the thing, I managed to retrieve it.

My suspicions were confirmed, and in my hand I held a small, delicately bubble-wrapped item. Looking at the other contents of the mailer, I found that one of the inner envelopes had writing on it. On the greeting card it bore the words "Open First," in a very familiar scrawl. I made a table of the mailer upon my lap and set the other two items on top of it to keep them safe and in view.

Inhaling sharply, I worked up the courage to unfold the flap on the greeting card. Once open, I quickly removed the card to gaze upon the front. Without a moment's hesitation I instantly recognized the crystalline Gothic glory of the Duomo di Milano. From the accoutrements visible in the photograph I could tell it had been taken during Christmastide. It was simply breathtaking, and a location I had longed to see since I was a boy.

Opening the card, I found only Sara's handwriting, and the small caption, in Italian, naming the location and date of the photo.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_2007-12-21 _

_Gil, _

_I surely hope this thing gets to you before Christmas. I had no idea it would be so difficult to get something to you so quickly. _

_And before you ask… Yes, I am going to a church for Christmas. The church on this card to be exact. When Jack suggested it, I felt a sudden surge of excitement. But it wasn't my excitement, it was yours. I knew this was something that you wanted to see. So, on Christmas Day, close your eyes and think of me, as I will be thinking of you during the Mass. _

_Also, there is something wrapped up inside the envelope. I hope it didn't get lost, because I wanted to put it in another package, but the guy at the mail station said it might not get to you in time using anything else. If it made it safely there, open it now. _

_Voltinia dramba, 15-20 million years old. The species of butterfly found in the Dominican Republic which proved to entomologists and everyone else that butterflies have been around even longer than previously suspected. I have a matched set that my brother gave to me. He got them from his ex who's a paleobotanist, now. _

_Consider it your worry stone. When you worry about something, rub the amber, and know that I have its mate with me always. _

_Merry Christmas, Gil. _

_Sara _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

The small smooth disk of amber warmed in my fiercely rigid fist. As I choked back the emotions percolating to the surface of my barely contained façade, I set the card down upon the makeshift table and reached for the other envelope.

Deliberately swallowing a few times, I attempted to keep the lump in my throat from cutting off my airway. Then I opened the letter. The first thing I noticed; it was handwritten.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_2007-12-20 _

_Gil, _

_Did you ever meet someone and know instantly that they were the missing piece in your life? Jack is that for me. He is no longer the troubled teen I last saw as they led our mother away. He is not the fallen hero in a little girl's eyes. He is a man, just like any other, with all the faults and foibles of anyone else. But he's also so much more. He's my brother, my genetic partner in life, my past, and my soul. _

_Jack has gone down all the same roads, battled the same demons, fought the same wars, and faced the same fears. He is everything I've ever wanted, and everything I've ever feared for myself. _

_When I first met him in the waiting room at the medical facility here at the Naval Base in Gaeta, I was struck speechless by his eyes. They were the same eyes I stare into in every mirror I've ever seen. But his eyes were different, too. There was something there, or more than that it's that there was something missing from his eyes. Life has left his eyes. Not completely, but you can see that so much of his connection to life has slipped away with the incredible pain that has etched itself into his features. _

_He hasn't had the same opportunities I've had. He's had to fight for everything, and fight against just as much. Jack has lived most of his life as the embodiment of the anger that was a paragon of our upbringing and it has cost him dearly. _

_Jack didn't see his warning signs. He didn't have the support I did, and when he reached that brick wall headfirst, he was knocked from everything. He lost everything, Gil. But most importantly, he lost himself. _

_It's taken him several stints in the brig, a divorce and three years of his life, one of which was spent in the psych ward at Bethesda, to build himself back up again after the fall. And that fact scares me more than anything else on this earth. That could have been me, and I just can't bear the thought of ever doing that to you. _

_We've talked every single day; about growing up, about how he left, about our father, about our mother, about life in that house, and about the mistakes we've made. I haven't talked this much in my entire life. Growing up, talking led to fighting. In the foster care system, talking led to moving. In school, talking led to ridicule. By the time we got together, I was scared to say anything, because I never wanted to find out what evil talking would lead to then. _

_We don't always talk about the bad stuff though. He tells me about his little girls; Sara Elizabeth (who they call Beth) and Jillian Marie (they call her Jilly Bean). They're 7 and 4, and they look so much like Jack and I did when we were little that it's almost scary. The only difference is that they have a lot of gold in their hair because of their mom. _

_I met Melissa when I was in Norfolk, since their house was his last known address in the States. She's really great, and you can tell how much she cares for those girls, and for my brother. I guess they're trying to reconcile right now, but Jack is still finishing out his tour in Gaeta. Once he can take his PA license exam in Virginia, he's going to retire from the Navy and probably work in one of the clinics or something around the base. Melissa is retired from the Navy and teaches on base while she works on her Ph.D, so he wants to stick closer to home once it's a viable option. _

_That's what got him through his breakdown; those girls. He finally admitted there was a problem after Melissa had to file for divorce, and that was when he started to heal from the whole thing. I guess his ghosts were a little more demanding on him. Or maybe, I don't know. Maybe he just wasn't around people who could spot when he was in trouble. Not like I was. _

_I realized, in talking with him, that I should have melted down years ago. And I know I came close a couple of times, but there was always something bringing me back from the brink. There was always someone to reach out and pull me back from that ledge; you, Brass, Greg. Each of you reached out to me at different times, held my hand, listened, or called me to the carpet when I was crossing the line. I can't thank any of you enough for all that you've done to hold me together over the years, but I am deeply grateful for each of you. _

_This trip, while completely unexpected, has probably been one of the most important things I have ever done in my life. Jack and I still have a lot of stuff to work out, but it's lifted such a huge weight from off of my chest that I finally feel like I can breathe again. _

_I'm going to stay here a little while. Jack is taking me to Milan so we can attend Mass at the Duomo di Milano for Christmas. Melissa and the girls are flying out for it as well. We're meeting them in Milan tomorrow. 36 years old, and I think this will be my very first real family Christmas. I guess I'm going to have to get used to hearing Auntie Sara from now on (you have no idea how weird that sounds to me as I read it back from the letter). _

_Jack told me that I can stay with him until I find my bearings, and I've decided to take him up on the offer. He has an off-base apartment, and his couch is pretty comfortable. It's also near the water, and the gentle sound of the tides has been great for helping me sleep (yes, me sleeping!). _

_I want to know something of being in a family, and I think it's the best thing for both of us right now. We can help each other to figure out this stuff that's kept both of us afraid of getting too close to the people we love. I know it doesn't make a lot of sense right now, but it feels right, and so I have to go with that. _

_I'm also going to try and get around the town and countryside to look around. It really is beautiful here, and I want to make the most of the situation. Yesterday, I went to check out the Montagna Spaccata, and it literally took my breath away. This place is amazing, and even a walk through the marketplace calms me in ways I never imagined. Jack tells me that's why he wants to finish out his tour here, because it's been good for his soul. _

_You're probably wondering why I handwrote this letter, and why I haven't emailed you or anything. Well, I'm still trying to get my laptop and phone back from the Italian customs office. Apparently, when one works in law enforcement, and takes their electronics to work, they collect particles of certain agents deemed as potential explosive components. My stuff tested positive for residue, and they confiscated everything. Then they tried to detain me on top of it. I had to declare my reasons for being in Italy, on a ticket purchased at the last minute, with an unstamped passport (because I never go anywhere), and with my stuff covered in explosive residue. I wasn't about to tell them the residue probably came from the explosive debris from the test fires we released to determine blast radius with a leaded, 1 inch pipe. _

_So, when I told them I was attempting to visit my brother and who he was, they called the local JAG office and Jack's CO came down with a lawyer to get me released. The JAG lawyer is still trying to get my stuff released. I look like a train wreck wearing Navy surplus denims and Jack's old shirts all the time. Thankfully Melissa and I have time to go shopping before Mass on Tuesday. _

_I did borrow Jack's computer once to pay some bills and I saw your email, but I was afraid of falling apart when I read it, and Jack was already worried about me at the time. By the way, can you tell me why am I still getting a paycheck? I don't understand what that's about. And in case you were worried, I'm okay for money, I promise. _

_Well, before I keep rambling on anymore and have to get another sheet of paper I should try to get some sleep before we go to Milan in the morning. I did enclose a picture. Jack's CO took it of the two of us when he and his wife had us over for dinner. However, without my laptop, I can't exactly download my own pictures yet. Hopefully that gets resolved quickly. _

_Anyway, I wanted to let you know what's happening and to touch base with you. I sent a post card when I first got here, but after I sent it Jack told me that they can take weeks to get to the States. He sends most things home through the Postal Station on base, because even the military mail system is faster. You'll get it eventually. _

_Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, Gil. Take care of yourself, and make sure you check the closet in the spare room. There might be a package in there of interest to you. _

_I Love You, Always, _

_Sara _

_PS: Watch Hank around the Christmas trees after the big day. He likes to eat the tinsel on the trees left at the curb for trash pickup. Trust me, you DO NOT want to go through that one. _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

I gingerly set the letter and the card down on the coffee table and reached into my pocket for the cell phone when I got up from the couch.

"Jim… Do you still have any contacts in the JAG Corps?... Can you reach out to them and have someone vouch for Sara with the Italian customs office?... It would take far too long to explain. She's in Gaeta with family, and they confiscated property because it tested positive for residue…" As I tried to explain the circumstances of Sara's predicament, I walked into the spare room.

"Yes, I know every one of us would do the same, but she doesn't have her law enforcement identification with her… Petty Officer John 'Jack' Sidle…" Opening the door to the closet, I instantly recognized a large brightly wrapped box on the top shelf. "That's right… Thank you, Jim. Goodbye."

I shut off the phone before I returned it to my pocket and reached up for the box. There was a tiny gift card tied to the bow that I opened and read, _"I know how much you like quirky headwear… Wear it in good health, pardner. Love, Sara."_

Lifting the lid from the box, I was blown away by the contents. Inside the hat band of what appeared to be a genuine Roy Rogers style Stetson hat was another note.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_I don't think it'll fit, since he wasn't a very big guy, but if you look inside you'll see why I had to fight 6 middle aged lunatics hell bent on jacking up the price of this thing. Don't ask… You really don't want to know how much. _

_Love you, Babe, _

_Sara _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

I spent the next day sitting on the couch; the hat box in one hand, and the amber with the butterfly inclusion in the other. The only time I moved to was to take care of Hank, who seemed to sense my mood, because he never left my side the whole week.

New Years was spent much the same way.


	8. Chapter 8

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**_A/N: _**Cruising along now... Which means you can expect an end to this one within the week. :) Thanks for all of your support as I exorcise the demons placed in my head due to Sara's departure.

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

**

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**Chapter 8 **

The New Year came and went, and life continued. Hank and I took our daily walks whenever possible. I went to work, performed my duties, and attempted to make the city a safer place than it was when I started the day; most days it simply stayed the same, but occasionally we saw small steps of progress. I watered the plants, tended to my experiments, and kept up on the bills. Life went on.

It was obvious from her letter that Sara would be gone for a lot longer than I ever dared to imagine. She seemed to have found some peace with her brother in Italy, and as much as I wanted her to find it with me, I would never stand in the way of her happiness, in whatever form it takes. I love her more than that, and I always will.

Hank and I started out the year with a clean bill of health. I turned in my physical forms to the department and to my insurance company. The agent, not knowing about the events of the past two months, asked if he needed to change the beneficiary's name, or if Sara was going to retain her maiden name. When we both went in to update our insurance policies last fall, he most have concluded that adding one another to the policies meant we were getting married, and so the innocent question threw me for a loop. It also reminded of something else; I should have started out the New Year as a married man.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, to know that my life had been altered so very much from my dreams. When Sara responded to my ham-handed proposal, I thought that the universe had finally decided to stop the torture and aligned properly for the first time in my life. I could never have known how wrong that conclusion would prove to be.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, my hope that Sara will return from her journey of self-discovery so that we can proceed with our lives slowly began to dwindle away. I wanted to believe that she would someday come home to us, but that belief had become very hard to hold onto as each day without contact passed by.

Work was still work, and I felt like the rest of my world was beginning to forget about the incredible woman that once roamed the halls of our workplace. Everyone, that is, but Greg. He seemed to be holding a grudge as of late, and my interactions with him were strained, at best. I suppose I should speak with him about his feelings, but the fact was I had come to need his disdain for me, for my failings with Sara, and I often shared his feelings regarding my blame in Sara leaving town.

If only I had paid better attention to the difficulty she was having, perhaps I could have reached out to her and prevented such a drastic action. It was a ridiculous belief, but it gave me an opportunity to shoulder some of the blame. No matter how many times Sara might tell me that I wasn't at fault, I still felt that there had to have been something else I could have done, something else I could have said. It was easier to believe the blame was mine, because that meant there still might be something I could do to bring her back. Something other than to wait and hope.

As Hank and I walked back to the house, we both took our time, since we knew that Henry was on vacation, and neither of us cared for his temporary replacement. Hank had even growled at the cranky woman delivering the mail in the absence of our trusted friend. It also helped that I was no longer waiting on the mail for any word from Sara. I had not received so much as a post card following the Christmas dispatch.

When we arrived at the house I saw that the mailbox had already been stuffed. And stuffed it most definitely was, with two of my journals jammed into the box and the other mail stuck in with a haphazard fashion. I really missed Henry.

Hank looked up at me with resignation in his expression. He missed Henry, too. But more than that, he no longer tugged at his leash to go into the house. He had finally learned that Sara was not there waiting for him. We both had trouble finding the excitement in returning to someplace that seemed so much less of a home, now that Sara was gone.

I dumped the mass of crumpled mail onto the entry table and released Hank from his leash. The dog merely walked over to his bed to lie down and rest as he waited for me to prepare his food. Dutifully, I went about the rest of my morning routine. There was comfort in the routine, and there was a small part of me that believed if I kept doing the same things I did when Sara was here, that maybe it would be like it was before, and she would be there waiting for me.

Waiting for me…

Sara waited for me all those years. All those years with no sign of progress, and yet she had faith in us. She had faith in me. The least I can do, after barely more than two months, is to hold on to the faith she had in us, and never betray the faith she placed in me. No matter how much pain her absence leaves in my heart, I know that even if I have to wait for years, it will never match the pain she endured for my years of ignorance. I will wait until the sun no longer shines, "until the poets run out of rhyme. In other words, until the end of time."

With the rest of the song playing softly in my head, I set about to clear through the normal chaff of our everyday mail offerings. Flipping through the energy bill, the phone bill, the notice that another package is waiting for me at the post office thanks to our interim postal carrier, and the various periodicals delivered to this address on a monthly basis, I might have missed the battered post card stuck between Sara's _The New Yorker_ and my latest catalogue from Bioquip.

Before I could get lost in the pages of the newest equipment for archiving and mounting my vast collection, the post card slipped out from its hiding place. The photo on the front was a picture of a large rocky crevasse that I could only assume was the Montagna Staccato in Gaeta. I took in a deep breath and prepared to see Sara's words on the card. I hadn't heard anything from her since the package at Christmas, and while I knew this card was sent before that, it was still tangible evidence that she was thinking about me. Even if it was in the past.

I adjusted my glasses and flipped the card over to read it.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_Gil, _

_I made it to Gaeta, & talk about an adventure! I'll have to explain later. _

_Jack is great, & we're really getting along. Not sure how long I'll be here, but I'll explain more later. Take care of yourself & the boy. _

_I Love You, Always, _

_Sara _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

I continued to stare at the card for quite a while, as though I expected there to be more. It was merely a post card, doing exactly what Sara said she would do, just letting me know she arrived at a new destination safely. I wanted there to be more. I wanted another letter. I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to feel her in my arms. I wanted her home…with me.

Work was the way I took my mind off of Sara, and so I moved my agony to the office to review a few more case files until I was exhausted enough to collapse again before the next shift. That was how I found myself hunched over the desk, snoring the day away, dreaming of happier times, until something stirred my conscious mind back to the surface.

When I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes, I was able to vaguely register that there was another sound in the house. As the answering machine finished off with the standard greeting I finally realized that the phone ringing was the source of my waking. Clumsily, I tried to stand up from the desk, but my legs were numb. After I cursed my creaking knees, I stumbled my way out of the office in time to hear Sara's voice trailing off. I lunged for the machine, desperately hoping to catch her still on the line.

As I knocked the receiver off of the base and fumbled to bring it my ear I called out to her, only to hear the blaring sound of the dial tone. The string of curses that fell from my lips would surely have made Catherine blush. I was devastated to have missed the opportunity to speak to her.

I looked down at my watch and realized that there was no way she had called the house thinking she would miss me. Sara called at a time when I would normally be home, and that meant she wanted to talk to me. Without missing another beat, my fingers flew over the keypad to dial her new cell phone number. It had been committed to my memory the instant I read it.

Before it could ring a single time, her voicemail picked up; Sara's phone was turned off.

_"You've reached Sara Sidle. I am out of the country right now. You may leave a message, but any replies could be delayed for weeks. Thank you."_I didn't even consider waiting to leave a message, and so I hung up the phone.

Staring into the nothingness of the wall next to the phone, it took several minutes before I noticed the blinking light on the answering machine. Sara had left a message, and I suddenly had a fanatical need to hear her voice. Pressing the play button on the machine, I began a silent prayer that her message was good news.

**"Damn…You must still be sleeping, or out on a case. I only have time for this one call. Just a quick fuel stop and a couple passengers before we continue to Chicago. And I had to wait for the incredibly unhappy French businessman in the seat next to me to finish with the damn phone. Anyway, I'm back in the States, New York at the moment, and I'm on my way to Chicago. Jack put me in touch with some family we have living there, so I'm stopping over before heading back to the coast. I can't explain it all in a message, and I guess I…I-I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm a little scared about meeting these people, and maybe I was looking for a little moral support."** Her message seemed to pause, and I could hear the announcement that they were closing the doors to the aircraft. **"Damnit! I've gotta shut this thing down. Hug the drooler for me, and I'll try again when I get to Chicago. We have a lot to talk about, but just remember…I love you, Gil. I always will."**

The beep at the end of the message wasn't enough to shake my attention. The only thought on my mind was that Sara was now closer than she was before. My once fading hope began to pulse, to breathe again.

Just to make sure I wasn't still dreaming, I pressed play once again. So taken with her voice, I failed to notice that the recording had woken someone else from their dreams. Not until his sharp, excited bark rang through the house did I realize Hank had joined me at the answering machine.

I crouched down and obediently wrapped my arms around Hank's neck and whispered into his ear, "That's right, boy. She's getting closer. It won't be long now… I hope."


	9. Chapter 9

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**_A/N: _**Okay, this is where I'm going to have to beg for your patience. The next two chapters are going to be very intense, and therefore hard to write. What this means for you is that you might have to wait an extra day or so for the next couple chapters. I still think that I'll be finished by week's end, but my normal daily posting will not likely happen. Please bear with me on these, and I will do my very best in writing them. :)

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

**

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**

**Chapter 9 **

I expected to hear back from Sara later that night, but her call never came. And each time I tried to call her, the cell phone was still shut off. By the second day, I finally gave up and left a message. I tried not to sound as desperate as I felt, and I spent most of my time apologizing for calling when she had not directly asked for me to call.

Feeling like a complete fool, I spent the next two days doing everything I could to take my mind off of Sara. Not that any of it helped.

When I was cleaning out the fish tank, I noticed that the guppy habitat was filled with babies, once again, and I was reminded of the way Sara always delighted in the sight of the tiny fish swimming around in their seclusion. I also remembered how sad she would get when I had to turn them loose in the frog terrarium as the food source they truly were. She would always make me wait until she had left for work before I was allowed to perform the transfer. For all of her toughness, she most definitely is the single most tender-hearted person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

As I refilled the bird feeder out back, I recalled the moment she first noticed the finches dancing in the air through our backyard. How she practically beamed with joy to see their swoops and falls, and how she insisted we investigate the proper foods with which to fill the feeder she had personally selected. Sara loved to sit in a chair out back, Hank lying on her feet, pretending to read a book as she closed her eyes to better hear their delicate songs. I often found myself staring at her from the window, relishing in the sight of her absolute enjoyment of the tiny songbirds.

Perhaps the most revealing moment was when I was cleaning out the refrigerator in my office. I could count on one hand the number of times it had been cleaned before Sara moved in with me, but it became a weekly chore following her arrival. Not because she demanded it, or that she even asked me to perform this task. No, it was because she stopped coming into the office to find me after a few weeks. When I asked her to come in there to keep me company one evening she turned up her nose, and said that she was busy reading. It took some doing, but I was finally able to dislodge the reason for her absence in the office; the smells from the fridge made her nauseous. I began the weekly chore of cleaning out the fridge from that moment forward. And even now, with her gone, I have to admit that the odor really does get bad if I let it go for more than a week. Strange how I never noticed before, but now, it starts to bother me if I forget to perform my weekly duty.

Once all of my chores were done I rewarded myself, and Hank, by taking a quick drive down to the ice cream parlour. It had become something of a tradition in the house that once the weekly chores were complete we would go out for ice cream. It seemed a shame to punish Hank simply because the ice cream fanatic was currently missing from our lives. Besides, I had to do something about the amount of weight I had been losing lately, and ice cream seemed like just the right thing.

Hank knew the moment we got into the car where were going, and I was suddenly irritated with myself for forgetting his drool towel. We had not taken many trips in the car lately, and I had gotten out of practice in regards to transporting a full sized, overly excited Boxer to get ice cream.

The place we went to catered to people and their dogs, so it was perfectly acceptable for Hank to accompany me into the shop. And of course they also carried a little snow cone inside of a peanut butter dog treat cone. Hank could barely contain himself until we got outside to eat his, and it was one of the rare times that his obedience training would fail. After I got him to sit nicely again, I handed him the treat and sat down at the table outside to enjoy my own cone. The sun was shining, and it was a pleasant January day in Las Vegas.

By the time we got back to the house, both of our moods had improved considerably, and we paused to play a little tug of war in the front yard. From time to time he would wrestle the rope out of my hand and take off for several steps before he remembered who was playing with him. Sara always chased him when he would win, and Hank delighted in being able to dodge and weave out of her grasp. It was their special game, because the very moment Sara would plop down onto the grass, he would sneak up to her and ceremoniously drop the rope into her lap to serve as his reward for her attention. That was my happy moment, watching the two of them wrestling in the grass over a piece of knotted rope, only to end up sitting face to face with big smiles on their faces as they prepared for the next round.

However, my reverie was disturbed when Hank suddenly bolted away from me on a head long course for the street. On pure instinct I shouted the proper command of, "Hank, Heel!" His training instantly kicked in and Hank froze in place just before he dropped his backside to the ground and desperately waited for me to release him from the command. As I walked up to him, I found the source of his sudden attempt at escape; the Fedex guy was walking up the path.

He handed me the package and his digital clipboard the moment we met at the sidewalk. As I signed for the package, he bent down and asked if it was safe to pet Hank. I nodded that it was indeed safe, and the man reached out to scratch behind the dog's ears. For some reason, I've begun to believe that Hank can telepathically transmit to all newcomers that his ears are in dire need of scratching, as it seems to be the first thing anyone who meets him wants to do.

We waved the Fedex guy off on his way and took our package into the house. As we reached the entry table, I grabbed for the reading glasses I had left there and put them on so that I could find what piece of garbage I had ordered this time. If it wasn't for the need to have it for work, I would have disconnected the internet at the house in an attempt to curb my insomnia induced shopping fits.

The shipping label came into view and I was struck dumb; it was from Sara, in Chicago.

_**FEDEXOVERNIGHTFEDEXOVERNIGHTFEDEXOVERNIGHT FEDEXOVERNIGHT **_

_FROM: Sara Sidle _

_S. Sidle _

_2245 Port Chester Avenue_

_Chicago__, IL 60614_

_TO: Gil & Hank _

_G. Grissom _

_4657 Western Ave #15_

_Las Vegas__, NV 89110_

_**FEDEXOVERNIGHTFEDEXOVERNIGHTFEDEXOVERNIGHT FEDEXOVERNIGHT **_

A sharp pain filled my chest as I read the label. Was it possible that Sara had decided to stay in Chicago, of all places? It was the first thing she had sent to me that contained a return address on it, and the fear gripped my heart so tightly that I was momentarily unable to open the package.

The box was unbelievably heavy, and I was without a single idea as to what could be inside. Wanting a little more time to gather my composure, I set the box down on the kitchen island and got some water for Hank, as well as myself. Never once did my eyes leave the package for more than a split second. It sat there on the counter mocking me; mocking me with my own fears and doubts. However, something in the box seemed to have gotten Hank's attention, because he stood up on the counter and sniffed at it quite enthusiastically. I didn't even bother admonishing him, because my focus was on the possible contents, so I just shooed him off the counter and prepared myself to open the carton.

Blowing out a last calming breath, I reached for the pull tab on the side of the box and ripped the package open. I don't know if I was expecting a bomb, but I stared at it for a few moments before I attempted to touch it again. When I did, I tipped it up on its side and all of sudden a large mass came sliding out. It was a bag of what looked to be smashed electronics, bearing the seal of a certain Italian police authority.

After the initial shock, I picked up the box again to discover that there was more inside. Two more boxes rested in the other end of the package, and an envelope. Knowing that there was usually an explanation in anything Sara sent, I went for the envelope first.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_2008-1-9 _

_Gil, _

_This is what you get when the Italians think your computer could be a detonator… They detonate it. Oh yeah, and somewhere in that whole mess is also my cell phone, though I bagged up some of it to file the claim when I get back to San Francisco tomorrow. _

_I managed to retrieve the SIM card and the hard drive, so it's not a total loss. I can't remember if we included that stuff with the travel insurance, or the homeowner's policy. But I might just buy another laptop and forego anymore trouble, so don't worry about it. _

_I've got the SIM card with me, but the hard drive is bubble and static wrapped inside that bag. Maybe Archie can at least get my pictures and music off of it. The rest isn't important, since we should still have the backup disks in the hutch in your office. _

_I'm dropping this off when I get to the airport, so by the time you get the package, I should already be in San Francisco, probably fighting with the people at the cell phone place about what is covered in the insurance policy I got for the phone. I don't know, but I think having customs blow your phone up into tiny pieces should be covered, don't you? _

_You're probably wondering about the whole Italy-Chicago thing, right? Well, I wish I could show you the pictures, but that isn't likely to happen for a little while. However, I would like to take this time to thank you for making me buy 2-2gig cards for my camera, because if it wasn't for that, I would have had to stop taking pictures a long time ago. _

_Anyway, Italy was amazing. I saw everything I could, in between all night gab sessions with my brother. Christmas was completely surreal, from shopping with my sister-in-law in Milan, to Mass at Duomo di Milano, to being the witness as Jack and Melissa got remarried, and then finally, having two little girls fawning over me for an entire week as they called me Auntie Sara the whole time. It was just weird. Weird, and absolutely wonderful. Thirty six years old, thousands of mile from home, eeking my way through an emotional crisis and for the first time ever, I felt like I had a real family. _

_Jack also told me about these cousins we have in Chicago. I guess our father had a brother, who he stopped talking to before he married our mother. Anyway, I have now learned everything I could have possibly wanted to know about my Uncle Frank from his boys. Sam, however, is my favorite. He is loud, and demonstrative, and has never met a stranger in his entire life. I stayed with him and his family while I was in town. And he's the reason you can open that bigger box in the package. _

_Sam works for the Cubs organization. I have no idea exactly what he does, but he seems to know everyone. When Marie and I went to meet him for lunch the other day, he was just getting done having a conference with the team's managers, and when I shook Lou Piniella's hand, I told him that I had a guy back home who would absolutely die to know that I had met him. So, he grabbed a hat from a nearby box, and signed it for me. I hope you like it. _

_The other box has a new chew toy for Hank. I realized that in all this time, I hadn't gotten the boy anything. So, when we were walking through one of the tourist areas I saw this chew toy made up to look like the Chicago Tribune, and I couldn't resist. I also threw in this thing called a Greenie. Marie says they've done wonders for their Boxer Champ's breath and we both know our guy needs a lot of help in that area. _

_So, I bet you're wondering about why I'm headed back to San Francisco. Well, after talking to Jack, and hearing his side of things, and then getting a new perspective about my father from Sam and the other guys, I decided it was time to finally face the one thing that's really haunting me; my past. _

_I've managed to do a pretty good dance around it with all this globe trotting, but in the end, if I can't come to terms with where I came from, and what I am, then I know there's no way this won't come back again and take me down. I don't ever want to go through this kind of pain again, and I know that what I'm doing to you with all of this must be even worse. _

_I still haven't read your last email, and I'm really sorry about that. It's not really that I haven't had the chance it's more that I'm afraid of what might be in there. There have been several times over the last weeks that if you had told me to come home, I would have dropped everything and gotten on the next flight. No matter how wrong it would have been, my strength has waned a lot over the course of this trip. Seeing Jack and Melissa exchanging their vows, watching Sam and Marie herd their brood around, all the couples at the cafés in Gaeta, or just seeing someone in a windbreaker; they've all given me moments of weakness. But no matter how much this thing hurts right now, the damage caused by not following it through would be far worse than anything we could ever imagine. And I just can't do that to you. _

_So, I'm stopping in San Francisco to take care of some business and then I'm driving down to Tomales Bay. I was born there, but I don't know if I actually remember it or not. I was little when my parents lost their business at the shore and we moved to Modesto. _

_Did you know I grew up in Modesto? I don't even remember if I ever told you about it. I've spent most my life trying to run away from that place, from that time. And now, I'm deliberately going back to face those demons. I need to do this, Gil. I need to do it for myself, but I also need to do it for us. Until I can fight those ghosts, I won't ever be able to trust myself again, and you deserve a lot more than what I have to give right now. _

_I finally feel like I have something to back me up. I now have a home and a family, and some firm ground from which to handle the ghosts waiting for me back there in my past. _

_Oh, and before I forget. I'm really sorry that I didn't get a chance to call you back after I got here. Jack told Sam my flight info and the whole family met me at O'Hare. It was a little overwhelming, but it was the most amazing welcome. And the whole time I've been here I've barely had time to breathe, let alone get away from the melee long enough to call you. I haven't even been able to check my voicemails yet. With this crew, you never have to wonder how they feel or what they're thinking, because they are telling you before you can even think about asking. _

_Well, I need to finish getting packed so that Sam can take me to the airport. I'll drop you a line to let you know I made it to California okay, but I'm probably going to drop off for a little while. It's going to be hard enough facing this stuff without hearing how my actions have hurt you. Feel free to punish me later, but right now, I think I might have to rein in my focus to just me. _

_Give Hank a big hug for me, and know that you two are some of the reasons I need to do all of this. I want to be worthy of the love I have for you both, and the only way I can do that is to lay to rest these phantoms in my past. Until I can get past this, I just don't feel like I can give myself over to any love, because of how much I fear what could happen when I do. I don't trust myself enough for that, not yet. _

_I am really scared about this next step in my journey, but I need you to know that the one thing that keeps me going forward is hoping that you'll be waiting for me on the other side. I know it's a lot to ask, but I really do hope that you'll still be there when I make it through this thing. _

_I Love You, Always, _

_Sara _

_PS: Please thank Jim for me. If it wasn't for you two stepping in, they might not have given me back my passport. Even if they did destroy my stuff. You don't even want to know what my suitcase looked like after they got done. _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

I took the hard drive out of the rest of the debris and set it down beside the larger box. Then I took the smaller box and removed the presents for Hank. The moment he sniffed the chew toy, he started prancing in place until I gave it to him. After that, he was off to the living room to begin his work. None of Hank's chew toys ever stayed intact. It was his personal mission to reduce them all to a paltry, rubberized version of their former selves in the quickest amount of time possible. The Greenie went into the bin with the rest of them.

The larger box remained unopened as I took it and the other contents into my office. I put the debris bag with the insurance papers, so I could bring it up to the agent the next day, and find out what could be done about it. As I sat down at my desk, I tried to prepare myself for opening this newest gift.

Sara would have no way of knowing until I told her, but these notes, messages, post cards, letters and gifts were the things by which I measured not only her progress, but also mine. As I received each item, I found myself at first dreading, and then anticipating her words. Even when they were brief, I studied each one carefully, seeking out their hidden meaning, trying to break the puzzle that was her journey.

While I understood her need to come to terms with her past, I struggled to understand why she needed to do it alone. She spent the last eight years trying to tell me that it was pointless to go it alone when I didn't have to, so then why now did she believe this had to be done alone? I knew she didn't want to leave me behind, and these correspondences have reminded me that even though we are separated by physical distances, we are still in each other's thoughts at all times. But it was still difficult for me grasp the truth of her assertions that she needed to do this on her own.

Doesn't she know that I am willing to walk through fire and floods to be with her? Doesn't she understand that I would gladly lay down my life to provide her with even a moment's peace? The answers were a little more than I was ready to handle, because I knew full well she couldn't possibly know these things, as I have never told her so.

It was quickly becoming apparent to me that this journey was not Sara's alone. While my sabbatical taught me how much I needed her, it failed to teach me how to express that need to her. And with Sara's journey, she was trying to learn who she was, but she was also teaching me that not only did I need her, but we truly needed each other. However, I was also learning that time, distance and pain had little affect on the depth of our feelings for one another. If anything, these things only seemed to strengthen our devotion.

There was one other lesson for us to take from this ordeal. We were both capable of living lives without the other, but they were not the lives of our choosing. Our independence had not been destroyed by our relationship, which was a fear for both of us. No, instead of growing dependent upon the other, we retained our fiercely independent natures, and simply learned to integrate the other into our respective lives. We were independent forces, choosing to exist in an equal and symbiotic relationship with one another. We have avoided the pitfalls of our past examples, and overcome the handicaps of our upbringings.

With that revelation, I was ready to open the last box. I lifted the lid away and reached in for the gift. Carefully sliding it out of the box, I found a 2007 Season Cubs Batting Practice ballcap. When I turned it over I found the haphazard scrawl of the team's manager, Lou Piniella, on the underside of the brim. Just above his signature I was able to make out the words he had inscribed there.

_To Gil- _

_One Lucky SOB _

_Lou Piniella_

I smiled at the meaning behind those words, and said to no one in particular, "You have absolutely no idea, just how lucky I am."


	10. Chapter 10

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**_A/N: _**The writing is moving along, but it's a lot harder than I ever imagined. Sorry for the delay, I had some tough decisions to make with this one (including splitting it into 2 chapters). Wish me luck with the next one, and thank you for continued patience.

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

**

* * *

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**Chapter 10 **

When I received a brief email from Sara, informing me of her arrival in San Francisco I was filled with a strange calm. She was close now, and I felt like the light was beginning to shine at the end of this tunnel.

The email also let me know that she had picked up a new laptop. I was worried about what such an expense would do for her finances, so I asked the insurance agent to expedite the claim to have the old one replaced. He assured me the funds would be transferred to Sara's bank account by the end of the week, at the latest.

Worrying about her finances was one of the few things I was able to control, and so I was diligent about it. Immediately after she left I put her in for an emergency leave of absence from the lab, which allowed her to draw down from her accumulated paid time off and retain her health insurance. When HR called to let me know her status would have to be changed to inactive because her PTO was about to run out, I asked them to transfer mine to her on a weekly basis, as needed. Thankfully, HR was probably the only administrative office with which I had a pleasant working relationship.

I thought this would be an acceptable solution, as I was perfectly willing to give up the thing which I never used voluntarily, but it would seem someone else in the lab had a friend in HR. When I first learned that other members of the lab were giving up their own PTO to prevent me from running out as well, I was thoroughly shocked. Perhaps the most surprising to me was the fact that Greg had given all of his available PTO to Sara.

I suppose I shouldn't have been shocked that Greg would do such a thing. After all, he and Sara had grown quite close over the last couple of years. No, what actually surprised me was that he was willing to do it to save me from losing all of my own time. Of late, Greg has shown a great deal of animosity towards me, and frankly I've not called him on it because I felt it was justified. But that was why his gesture caught me off guard.

When I decided to question him about the gift, as well as his animosity, my shock deepened. He informed me that he still felt like I was to blame for Sara's need to leave, but when it all boiled down he knew that Sara needed me even more. However, Greg also told me that if I failed to make her happy again, he was personally going to kick my ass, even if he had to hire someone else to hold me down first.

Greg was not entirely wrong in blaming me. I find myself at great fault when it comes to Sara's departure. If I had only opened my eyes, I would have seen the damage done by my absence, instead of blindly moving past that time, thinking that all was well simply because Sara accepted my return without any repercussions.

I was also frustrated with myself for not being more proactive in Sara's recovery after the abduction. I allowed her to swim through that sea on her own, never questioning her process, and giving her the space I believed she might need. However, if I was truly honest, I would have to say that I did all of those things more from my own fear. I was afraid that if I pushed her at all, she would run. That if I insisted on being involved in the process that she would see it as my lack of trust in her abilities, and she would reject my interference. But I never gave her the chance to tell me to back off, I just made a preemptive strike against her rejection, and removed myself from the process altogether.

These revelations were not exactly welcome pieces of information, but they were the truth and my whole life has been lived in pursuit of the truth. It was about time I began to apply those rules to my own actions. This was yet another lesson I have learned because of the ordeal we were enduring at the moment.

I found my thoughts drifting back to Sara, and what she might be doing while I took Hank on his evening walk. When we returned to the house Hank went about his own routine, and I moved my activities to the office. It was my night off, and I now had an entire evening to kill. My only hope would be that the internet had randomly shut off, thus preventing me from anymore shopping. I already had enough mounting supplies to last well into the next decade, and my kitchen had more than enough gadgets to last me a lifetime.

Powering on the computer, I went through a few things on my desk until it beeped at me to enter the password. While I waited for the final boot up sequence, I grabbed my other glasses in preparation for a long night at the terminal.

Once the computer was ready, the first thing which greeted me was a notice that I had new emails. Clicking over to my inbox, I was ready to slog through several notices about product recommendations from a particularly evil online retailer. After all, how many stores only allow you to purchase a book after they have shown you all the other wonderful things you could buy (at a reduced rate for buying them together) related to the single book you came in to get? I was prepared to do a mass delete of emails when one stood out from the others and instantly captured my attention.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_RE: Not Much Here _

_From: _

_Fri. 2008-01-13 18:38 _

_To: _

_Gil- _

_Thank you. _

_I know it seems like such a small thing to say after such a heartfelt letter, but truly, it was the first thing on my lips when I finished reading it. Your words have given me more than I can ever express to you, and so I am left with only this small acknowledgement of my gratitude. Thank you. _

_In case you were wondering, I haven't left San Francisco yet. It took a little while to find the computer I wanted, and then of course there was dealing with the cell phone people. However, if I am truly honest about it, I'd have to say that I've been stalling. When I made my decision to come back to California and face my past, I never realized how hard it would be in the end. But eventually, the stalling has to end, and tomorrow I'll be driving out to Tomales Bay. _

_Everyone I've mentioned the trip to tells me how beautiful it is, and gives me another place that I might want to stay while I'm there. I've never thought it was beautiful. I've always hated that place, so beauty is the last thing on my mind when I think about it. No, I think about gray skies, loud voices, hard times and the sharp crack of a hand making contact with a cheek. _

_When they came to California, my parents had big dreams. Sam told me all about the stories his father would spin about his little brother the hippie. Apparently my father had a falling out with his family when he was in college and never spoke to any of them again. That explains why I never even knew I had an uncle. They knew about us though. I guess my mother would send pictures and stuff to my grandparents before they died. Sam told me that they didn't learn about what happened to us until I was already out of the foster care system. I wonder why my mother never said anything about them. _

_To me, Tomales Bay has always been the genesis location for the downward spiral my life became from the moment our family arrived there. Jack was a little boy when they got the place there on the hill. I remember the hill, because Jack used to push me on a big tricycle down the hill, and standing on the back, he rode it with me. That's the only thing nice I really remember about that place; me and my big brother flying down the hill on my big red tricycle. _

_I'm not exactly sure what I hope to accomplish by going there, but I just feel like… I don't know, maybe I just want to see this place that's become so distorted in my memories. Maybe I just need to see it for what it really is, and not the house of horrors that my childish mind has made it out to be. _

_This whole trip has been a series of accidents, so I'm not sure why I think this one would make anymore sense than the others did before I got there. But everywhere I've gone has taught me something. Hell, even my little disagreement with the gentlemen down at the Italian customs office taught me a valuable lesson. If you're gonna play with explosives, make sure you never leave home without your ID (Of course, the fact that I had no idea I was going to be placed on emergency leave, instead of fired might have been the reasoning behind that oversight). _

_I had a couple emails from Greg recently, and he told me all about your little stunt with the PTO pool. Thank you. I never expected anything like that, and I certainly never imagined that half the lab would kick in their hours, too. I told Greg, but if you think about it, please make sure that everyone knows how much I sincerely appreciate their gifts. _

_Speaking of Greg… You might want to give him a little slack right now. No matter how many times I try to convince him that my leaving had nothing to do with anything you've done, he's got it in his head that you have some blame in this. I'm still working on him, but he's a little stubborn sometimes. Of course, he's still mad at me because I won't give him my new phone number. _

_You and Jim are the only ones in Vegas who have my new number, and I did that on purpose. If anyone else had it, they'd call me. I know the two of you will respect my wishes and not call just to tell me to come home. Thank you for that. _

_I should go get something to eat and finish getting ready to head out tomorrow. Thank you again for the wonderful email. It touched me deeply, and I only wish I had a printer so that I could keep it with your picture on the nightstand every night. _

_Be good to yourself, Gil, and don't forget to share a little of yourself with those other people in your life. I'm sure Jim and Catherine have done their share of butt kicking since I've been gone. And Al could probably use that other ticket to the concert next week. I don't like thinking of you alone, so I hope you've been trying to get out a little bit. _

_I Love You, Always, _

_-Sara _

_PS: I said something to Greg when he mentioned his concern, but I thought you should know, too. Someone needs to talk to Warrick. After hearing from Greg, I'm starting to think he's on a downhill slide. He's always respected your opinion, so maybe you could touch base with him and see if he's okay? _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

I was shocked by the fragility I could sense in Sara's words. In my mind's eye, I could see her huddled over a hotel desk carefully tapping at the keys with a timid touch, and it hurt me to know that she was feeling so alone.

My heart took over for my hands and before I realized it a reply was flying off of my fingers.

_**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG **_

_RE: Not Much Here _

_From: _

_Fri. 2008-01-13 20:04 _

_To: _

_Sara- _

_Honey, please try to take care of yourself, and don't worry so much about the rest of us. We'll be just fine. I've already taken steps to reconcile with Greg, and Nick has talked to me about Warrick. We are doing our best to make do in your absence, and all that any of us wants is for you to be safe and to return to us once this is resolved. _

_I don't mean to question your state of mind, but in your email, I sensed a great deal of worry and apprehension. I'm concerned that you might be finding this part of the journey too difficult just yet. If you need more time to prepare yourself before heading out there, then please take it. Don't rush this process now and spoil all of the wonderful things that you've accomplished so far. Whatever you need to do this and stay safe; just do it. _

_If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask for it. You should know that I will drop everything and help you if it's within my power. You only need to ask. I only want what's best for you, Sara, and my love for you is without bounds. _

_I love so very much, Sara. Please care for yourself and stay safe. _

_Loving You, Always, _

_-Gil _

_**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG **_

After sending the reply, I felt a well of emotion hiding within my chest. I wanted so desperately to reach out to Sara and hold her tightly in my arms until her fears evaporated like so much smoke. Unfortunately, an email was all that there was, so I gave her all that I had at my disposal.

As I blew out a calming breath, the flag went up on my inbox again.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_RE: Not Much Here _

_From: _

_Fri. 2008-01-13 20:18 _

_To: _

_Gil- _

_Thanks again. _

_Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn't just talk through emails and letters all the time, since we seem to do so much better like this. In your emails, you always manage to find just the right thing to say, every time. And the words that seem to fail me when I'm standing in front of you just pour out on to the paper when I'm writing. _

_Also, it reminds me of the times before I came to Vegas. _

_Anyway, I don't want to make you late for work, but I also didn't want you worrying too much about me. Despite how it must have looked in that email, I'm doing okay. I'm just trying to sort through all of this stuff, and sometimes writing it out makes it easier. Hopefully you don't mind being my sounding board on this. I'm not quite there yet with Jack, Sam doesn't know a whole lot about what happened out here, and Jim isn't quite the touchy feely type. _

_Stay safe tonight. _

_I Love You, Always, _

_-Sara _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

I suddenly felt like email was this shiny new toy and I was eight years old again. Though it was digital and not at all as wonderful as having her there with me in the flesh, Sara and I were having a real conversation for the first time in months.

_**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG **_

_RE: Not Much Here _

_From: _

_Fri. 2008-01-13 20:22 _

_To: _

_Is this the wrong time to mention that I have the night off? _

_**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG **_

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_RE: Not Much Here _

_From: _

_Fri. 2008-01-13 20:23 _

_To: _

_Now that's just too weird… I was just thinking, "Wouldn't it be funny if he was camped out in front of the computer at work?" I guess it never occurred to me that you'd be at home tonight. _

_Do you still have that instant message account we were using before I came to Las Vegas? _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG **_

_RE: Not Much Here _

_From: _

_Fri. 2008-01-13 20:31 _

_To: _

_It's where I am trying to divert all of my SPAM at the moment, but I don't seem to have that program on this computer. _

_**GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG **_

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

_RE: Not Much Here _

_From: _

_Fri. 2008-01-13 20:33 _

_To: _

_No problem… Just go to and type the login into the appropriate fields. _

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS **_

I am not a complete idiot when it comes to computers, but occasionally I am reminded just how far behind the curve I am from the others at the lab. And no one can bring that realization out more than Sara. She always seems to be five steps ahead of me when it comes to technology, but she has also never made me feel foolish about it.

The first time she suggested using an instant messenger I was completely confused, but she carefully explained the phenomenon to me, and within a short period we were having real time conversations, without the awkwardness of speaking to her directly.

The awkwardness came from two sources, the first being the beginning of my hearing difficulties manifesting itself during phone conversations, and the second being the affect on my composure whenever I was within her proximity. We learned much later that it was a difficulty we shared.

After I managed to navigate my way into the world of this new messaging portal, I entered the pertinent information and waited for the application to load.

The screen blinked into action and I was instantly greeted with a message from a familiar source.

_**meebomeebomeebomeebomeebomeebomeebomeebomeebomeebomeebomeebomeebo **_

_[20:41 Fequalsma: Welcome to 21st Century Communication! _

[20:42 TheBugGuy: At least this time I didn't have to spend two hours trying to figure out how to install a new program on the computer.

_[20:42 Fequalsma: Or crash your computer 2X in the process. _

[20:42 TheBugGuy: Thank you for that reminder.

[20:42 TheBugGuy: And I still don't really like the name you setup for me.

_[20:42 Fequalsma: It's your fault. _

_[20:42 Fequalsma: You're the one that introduced yourself as "The Bug Guy" at every seminar session. _

[20:43 TheBugGuy: That was just to save time. It didn't mean I liked it.

_[20:43 Fequalsma: Fine… Would you rather we use the same one everyone uses at the lab, Bugman? _

[20:43 TheBugGuy: No fair. You know I don't like that one at all.

[20:43 TheBugGuy: **Everyone** uses it?

_[20:43 Fequalsma: Everyone but me. _

_[20:43 Fequalsma: I still prefer Gilbert. _

[20:44 TheBugGuy: Do NOT spread that one around, please?

[20:45 TheBugGuy: Sara?

_[20:45 Fequalsma: Sorry… Was laughing too hard to type. _

[20:45 TheBugGuy: This isn't funny.

[20:45 TheBugGuy: Okay, maybe a little funny.

[20:45 TheBugGuy: But I still don't want that name getting around.

_[20:45 Fequalsma: Yes, Dear. _

I had to pause for a few moments. Even seeing her communicating with such happy phrases was enough to bring an enthusiastic smile to my face.

_[20:47 Fequalsma: Gil? Are you still there? _

[20:47 TheBugGuy: Sorry… I was enjoying the moment.

_[20:47 Fequalsma: I was just thinking the same thing when I realized you stopped talking. _

[20:47 TheBugGuy: I miss this.

_[20:47 Fequalsma: I've really messed things up, haven't I? _

Regret quickly filled my chest with pain. I shouldn't have ruined the moment with my comments.

[20:47 TheBugGuy: Honey, no… It's not messed up, not even a little.

[20:48 TheBugGuy: I just miss you right now. And I've really missed your teasing.

[20:48 TheBugGuy: Pathetic, I know, but it's the truth.

_[20:49 Fequalsma: Thank you. _

[20:49 TheBugGuy: For being pathetic?

_[20:49 Fequalsma: For being you. _

[20:49 TheBugGuy: Right…pathetic.

_[20:50 Fequalsma: Not pathetic. Not even a little. More like Mary Poppins. _

[20:50 TheBugGuy: You lost me on that one.

_[20:50 Fequalsma: "Practically Perfect in Every Way." _

[20:50 TheBugGuy: Ah… Measuring me up again?

_[20:51 Fequalsma: Something like that. _

_[20:51 Fequalsma: But seriously…thank you. I was feeling a little lost tonight. _

_[20:51 Fequalsma: Talking to you…your words… I'm feeling so much better right now. _

A great wave of relief fell over me as I read her words. I had worried that she was in a fragile state, and to learn that my words were enough to strengthen her filled me with an immense sense of pride.

[20:52 TheBugGuy: That makes me happy, to be able to help you through this, even if it is only in such a small way.

_[20:52 Fequalsma: Trust me, there's nothing small about it. _

[20:52 TheBugGuy: It doesn't feel like much. I wish I could do more.

There was a pause, and I hesitated before posting my next thought.

[20:52 TheBugGuy: I wish I could be there for you.

I waited. Just seeing the words on the screen, it looked like so much more than it was, and I worried that it might be seen as pressuring her.

_[20:54 Fequalsma: You are here… _

[20:54 TheBugGuy: Sara, I'm s

_[20:54 Fequalsma: In my heart. _

[20:54 TheBugGuy: I was trying to apologize, but Hank jumped in my lap.

_[20:54 Fequalsma: You have a full grown Boxer in your lap? _

[20:54 TheBugGuy: Well, the front half anyway.

[20:55 TheBugGuy: I think he heard me say your name and came looking for you.

_[20:55 Fequalsma: It's good to know I haven't been forgotten. _

[20:55 TheBugGuy: Are you kidding?

[20:55 TheBugGuy: I had to move his bed to the underside of the table where the answering machine is.

_[20:56 Fequalsma: Why? _

[20:56 TheBugGuy: Ever since your last phone message, he's been guarding the machine. I even have to play him the message when I come home every day or he won't leave me alone.

_[20:56 Fequalsma: __Don't tease me like that. _

[20:56 TheBugGuy: I'm completely serious, Honey. Our dog is obsessed with the answering machine now, and it's all your fault.

_[20:57 Fequalsma: Now you're just trying to make me cry. _

[20:57 TheBugGuy: No, I never want that.

_[20:58 Fequalsma: Are you really playing him the message every day? _

[20:58 TheBugGuy: It is played every single day…

[20:58 TheBugGuy: It just might not be only for him.

[20:59 TheBugGuy: Of course, I always did find you terribly adorable when you swear like a sailor.

There was another long pause in the conversation, but just as I was about to query her status again I received my answer.

_[21:02 Fequalsma: Thank you… I just spit water all over myself and had to get a dry shirt. _

[21:02 TheBugGuy: And the computer?

[21:02 TheBugGuy: Because unlike national security explosions, I don't think your spit take would be covered by our insurance policy.

_[21:03 Fequalsma: Damnit, Gil! I don't have enough shirts to keep this up. _

[21:03 TheBugGuy: Okay… I'll behave now.

I never realized until that moment just how much I enjoyed knowing that I could make Sara laugh. It suddenly dawned on me why I was always so uncomfortable in regards to her relationship with Greg before we got together; I was jealous of the way he could make her laugh and smile. I wanted to be the only one who could bring that magical thing out in her, but now I understand that it is an intoxicating and addictive phenomenon, and I could never fault the younger man for delighting in it. Besides, I have so much more from Sara than just her smiles.

_[21:05 Fequalsma: Computer's fine… I've got both wet shirts hanging up… And another dry one on. _

_[21:05 Fequalsma: Speaking of computers and insurance… Did you file the claim? Because there was a deposit from the insurance company on Friday???? _

[21:05 TheBugGuy: Oh good… I was afraid they would drag their feet on that one.

_[21:06 Fequalsma: You didn't need to do that. It could have waited. _

[21:06 TheBugGuy: Jim got me a copy of the report from the State Department, and I submitted it and the remains to Phil when I was signing some other papers. It wasn't any trouble, and I didn't want you spending all your money on a new computer.

_[21:06 Fequalsma: Gil, I told you… I'm really fine on money. _

_[21:06 Fequalsma: Especially since I am still drawing a paycheck. _

[21:07 TheBugGuy: You haven't left me with many problems that I'm capable of doing anything about… Being certain that you are adequately financed makes me feel better.

_[21:07 Fequalsma: It's not that I don't appreciate it, but you really don't have to worry. _

[21:07 TheBugGuy: Sara… I'm always going to worry. Nothing will ever stop that. I love you far too much for that to ever happen.

_[21:09 Fequalsma: You are the only person who can do this. _

[21:09 TheBugGuy: Do what?

_[21:10 Fequalsma: In the last hour you've managed to make me aggravated, blush, cry, laugh, miss you even more than I already do, smile, snicker, snort, spew water, and tempted me more than once to just pack it in and come home. _

_[21:10 Fequalsma: Nobody else can do all that… Not with me. _

[21:10 TheBugGuy: I refer back to my earlier statement… I love you far too much. It really explains everything.

[21:11 TheBugGuy: Wait… I made you blush?

_[21:11 Fequalsma: You would pick up on THAT, wouldn't you? _

[21:11 TheBugGuy: I have to make a journal entry for each one. Otherwise it will mess up years worth of data.

_[21:12 Fequalsma: You are such a nerd. _

[21:12 TheBugGuy: Speaking of… Dear, did you notice that your list is in alphabetical order?

The pause that followed was to be expected. I knew she would be scrolling back to verify my remark. It had been a long running joke between us for years. In the beginning I claimed that our interactions were part of an ongoing experiment and I was cataloguing everything for data analysis at a later time. This came about because I made mention that whenever she listed something off in print it was almost exclusively in alpha-numeric order, and she questioned my need to observe her so closely. Since we began the more intimate phase of our relationship, we've revived the jokes about the experimentation and which one of us is indeed the nerdiest.

_[21:14 Fequalsma: Oh god… I'm doing it again. _

_[21:14 Fequalsma: I guess we're both nerds. _

[21:14 TheBugGuy: That seals it then.

_[21:15 Fequalsma: What? _

[21:15 TheBugGuy: We were meant for each other. Who else could handle such a ridiculous pair of nerds?

_[21:15 Fequalsma: Then you have my deepest apologies… I think you're getting the short end of the stick on this one. _

[21:16 TheBugGuy: Such is my lot in life…ending up with the tall, beautiful, intelligent woman who loves me and my dog, even though she could have her pick of younger, more virile men across the globe. A curse, I tell you.

_[21:17 Fequalsma: I don't want to feed your ego, but there's something you should know… _

_[21:17 Fequalsma: I couldn't handle anyone **more** virile than **you**. _

[21:18 TheBugGuy: My turn to blush.

_[21:18 Fequalsma: Now that's an accomplishment. _

[21:18 TheBugGuy: No it's not… You've always been quite good at throwing me off balance.

_[21:19 Fequalsma: Then you must be good at hiding it, because I have only seen you actually blush twice. _

[21:19 TheBugGuy: Oh really? When?

_[21:19 Fequalsma: When I caught you staring during that 2nd seminar. _

[21:20 TheBugGuy: Busted.

[21:20 TheBugGuy: But in my defense, your blouse the second day was very…sheer.

_[21:20 Fequalsma: WHAT?! _

[21:20 TheBugGuy: Sara, I could see the…

_[21:21 Fequalsma: See what? _

[21:21 TheBugGuy: I could see the outline… Well, not really the outline, but

_[21:21 Fequalsma: Quit stalling. _

[21:21 TheBugGuy: I thought I could see your nipples, and I spent the whole day trying to figure out if you were wearing a bra, or anything, or if it was really your nipples, okay?

[21:23 TheBugGuy: Sara?

[21:23 TheBugGuy: You're not mad, are you?

_[21:24 Fequalsma: Ah, no… Just completely mortified. _

[21:24 TheBugGuy: Why?

_[21:24 Fequalsma: Oh, I don't know… The whole time I thought you were listening to my questions, interested in what I had to say, you weren't doing anymore than copping a feel with your eyes. _

[21:24 TheBugGuy: Are you kidding? I was in absolute agony. I had finally met a woman who could hold her own in a conversation with me, and my damn libido decided to rob me of all rational thought. I was sure you thought I was either a total fool or a complete Neanderthal.

[21:25 TheBugGuy: And when you busted me, I was convinced that would be the last I saw of you. When you walked into that lecture hall the next day I felt the most amazing sense of relief. That was when I knew that having you in my life, in even the smallest way, was something that I sincerely needed and wanted.

I began to worry that my explanation of the events surrounding the start of our strange relationship had made things worse. I simply needed Sara to understand that it was never just about my physical attraction, nor was it for any single attribute in her, but that I knew from the beginning to have the totality of the person that made her Sara was my fondest wish, and my most sacred dream.

[21:26 TheBugGuy: Sara, I just

_[21:26 Fequalsma: Stop. _

_[21:27 Fequalsma: I get it. I just need to digest the information. _

[21:27 TheBugGuy: Honey, please don't be upset. I don't want this to be what you take away from this conversation.

_[21:27 Fequalsma: It's okay. It was just a little surprising. _

It was back; the quiet calm that would fall over Sara as she struggled to keep something below the surface, far away from prying eyes. I hate that calm.

_[21:29 Fequalsma: Hey, it's getting late, and I need to finish cleaning up so I can get some sleep before my road trip tomorrow. _

[21:29 TheBugGuy: Sara, please don't leave like this. It doesn't feel right.

_[21:29 Fequalsma: I'm fine, Gil. I just need to get some stuff done before tomorrow. _

_[21:30 Fequalsma: Give Hank a big hug for me, okay? _

_[21:30 Fequalsma: I love you… Good night. _

_[21:30 Fequalsma is offline _

And with that, she was gone.

I must have started and stopped three dozen emails to explain myself that night, but in the end, I knew the damage had already been done, even if I wasn't entirely sure what the real problem was. When I finally succumbed to exhaustion the next afternoon, my fitful sleep was filled with dreams of Sara walking away. If it happened now, I knew right where to place the blame.


	11. Chapter 11

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**A/N:** Okay, this was an interesting experience. Not because it was hard (even though it was really hard). No, this was interesting because I had to do a MAJOR re-write after learning an interesting little fact that I apparently missed when the last new episode aired. It seriously messed with my ending chapters, and I had to do some intense revisions. All that being said, I think this turned out so much better than what I had originally envisioned. Despite the complete and total freaking out that occured yesterday, all is well in my brain again.

**A/N2:** A few people mentioned wanting to know what Sara's screenname meant in the last chapter. Considering her background, I thought it appropriate to give her a clever screenname relating to that. Newton's 2nd Law of Motion: Fma (Force equals mass times acceleration)

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

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**Chapter 11 **

Before the end of the shift Catherine had probably told me to snap out of it at least a dozen times. After all that, I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when she finally declared that I was not welcome in the lab until I could have a civil conversation. Actually, she told me that until I could talk to anyone without acting like a jackass, I might as well stay home. She was right, and so I did.

However, it did not improve my mood. Hank had gotten into some trash I mistakenly left in the office, and there was a notice on the door from the HOA reminding me that dues had increased as of the first of the year and I failed to send them the proper funds, so they were kind enough to assess a late fee for my ignorance. It was almost as though the universe had decided to punish me for being a mindless moron.

I spent the day checking the computer every five minutes to see if Sara came online or sent me an email. I also started another few dozen emails, only to get frustrated with myself and my stupidity before deleting each and every one of them.

Reading proved pointless after I read the same paragraph a half dozen times before I closed the book and tossed it back onto the coffee table. I hadn't been able to read more than a case file since Sara left. I just didn't have the patience, nor did I have the desire. The act of reading in the house had inextricably become a team sport over the course of our relationship, and without her there, I simply wasn't interested. 

Once I gave up the idea of reading, I decided to work on that new terrarium for the spider in my office. He had outgrown the original, and I had been putting off making the new one for far too long. However, I found myself standing in the doorway to the garage trying to remember exactly why I had gotten up to go out there in the first place. It would appear that my mind was entirely somewhere else.

As I stood there wracking my brain to remember what I had gone in search of, the phone began to ring. I wasn't in a mood to talk to anyone, so my initial reaction was to ignore the sound, but when the answering machine kicked on it immediately clicked in my head that it wasn't my cell ringing; it was the land line. I spun around on the steps and bolted inside. In the process I managed to rip a toenail off on the top step as I took off at a run in my bare feet.

I reached the end of the hall as the machine turned over from the greeting to begin the beep for the message. I knew if I didn't reach the phone in time I would never get another chance, but in my mad dash I failed to remember that Hank had taken up residence by the phone, and I tripped over him as I tried to grab the receiver.

When I regained my balance and went to lunge for the phone I heard her voice, and if I had not already been having a heart attack, the desperate sound of it would have broken it in two.

**"Gil? Are you there?... I guess not… I just wanted to ta-" **

"SARA, DON'T HANG UP!" I hadn't meant to yell quite so loudly when I finally got hold of the receiver, but my own desperation took over the volume control for a moment. "Sara? Are you still there?"

**"Yeah."** Her voice sounded so terribly small and infinitely far away.

"I'm sorry, but I was on the other side of the house and I had a little trouble getting to the phone in time. I didn't mean to shout like that. Are you okay?" I was still out of breath, which made holding it in incredibly difficult, but my chest still felt like restraining the air.

**"Yeah."** Whatever made her call was obviously not a good thing. Sara never spoke with one word answers. **"Are you?"**

I was on autopilot by that point and answered without any thought as to the conditions in which we were currently operating, "I'm fairly certain that I've shaved a few years off of my life, that toe I left on the garage steps is probably going to start throbbing at any moment, and I think the dog is going to run whenever I come near him for at least a week, but other than that…I'm absolutely miserable."

When I finished rambling on through my answer I was met with perfect silence. For a moment I was sure Sara's phone must have dropped the call, but when I was about to ask the now clichéd phrase I heard it, faintly; Sara was crying.

Swallowing back the fear and the pain, I was barely able to croak out, "Sara, what's wrong?"

And still, there was nothing; nothing but her strained sobs. Any hopes I had about emerging from this conversation in one piece were lost as I gripped the receiver in my white-knuckled hand and tried to wait for her to speak.

The anticipation quickly became too much. "Sara… Honey, what is it?"

I could hear her sharp intake of breath as she struggled to regain some semblance of control. After several more painful moments of waiting, she whispered through a rasped breath, **"I can't do it."**

My heart leapt straight into my throat with the raw emotion in her distressing admission. Forcing it down, I could only ask, "What?"

Her sniffles carried over the line with perfect clarity, and I knew that her tears had not subsided. **"I can't go back, Gil. I just can't."**

I fought against the wild conclusions my frightened mind was concocting from her words, and struggled to get a clearer answer. I simply could not allow myself to believe that it was over, not yet, not ever. "Go where?"

Her choked sob came through when she said, **"That house… I just can't do it again."**

Closing my eyes tightly, my jaw firmly clenched, I resisted the urge to scream with the agony ripping through my soul. "Sara, tell me what's happening, please?"

There were several deep breaths, and I listened patiently as she fought to get the words out. **"I didn't know that's what it was… Not when I picked it, I swear I didn't. I didn't even recognize it when I got here. It looks so different, Gil. But this morning, I saw it. It's still there."** I was thrown into complete confusion as her frightened rambling continued, until I finally realized that she was talking about something else entirely.

**"Why would they leave that there? I don't understand these people. And my god, the things she said. I was sure that I was going to just-… I don't know what I would've done. I don't want to know."** Her sobs took over again and I felt every one of them in my heart. Sara's pain was very real and I wanted nothing less than to take it all from her, and protect her from anything else.

Just when I was about to try speaking again, she cried out, **"I can't do this anymore!"** Those words froze me to the core. Sara was breaking down, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it but stand in my bare feet with the phone held tightly in my grasp as she fell apart six hundred miles away from me.

With every ounce of control I could muster up, I held back all of my own fears and reached out to her. "Sara, try to breathe," I could hear the sound of air being drawn into her lungs as one more sob stuttered from her throat, "and start over. Where are you right now?"

She sniffed again and softly said,** "I'm in the car." **

With her very brief and vague answer, I knew this was going to have to go slow if I had any hope of salvaging this mess. "Okay, and where's the car?"

I could hear her breathing slow down from the heaving gasps of her sobbing. **"At the bottom of the hill."**

It was like a giant spotlight had just been shown into my eyes, as the realization hit me with the same kind of impact; Sara was talking about the house she grew up in. "Sara, are you at your parents' old house?"

There was a single sniff and a timid word of confirmation before I heard her feeble control evaporate into another fit of sobbing.

I closed my eyes to keep my own tears at bay and struggled through the torture of hearing her in so much pain. I had to stay strong. If there was one thing that I could do for Sara, I had to do this.

"Sara?" She didn't respond, and I was even more worried about her state of mind. I poured every ounce of calm into my voice as I spoke in a clear, level and assertive tone, "Sara, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to take a deep breath and answer me, okay?"

When I heard her slow, stuttering intake of breath I knew that she heard me, and I waited for her answer. **"Yeah."**

"Just answer my questions, yes or no, and we'll try to figure this thing out afterwards, okay?" I wasn't sure where the calmness came from, but just hearing my own words helped me to stamp down the panic raging through my brain.

**"Yeah."** Whatever I was doing, it seemed to work.

My first priority was to determine her exact location. "Are you in Tomales Bay?"

**"Yes."** As she answered I took the phone with me into the office, Hank close at my heels. Even the dog could sense that there was trouble.

"Are you parked in the car somewhere in Tomales Bay?" I flipped the monitor back on and proceeded to pull up a map of the area.

**"Sort of, yeah… It's actually Inverness, but it's on the Bay."** That was good; Sara was processing information with more than monosyllabic answers now.

"Right…" The first time she mentioned the place I had looked it up, and discovered that Tomales Bay was actually just a series of smaller towns around the bay itself, instead of its own town. "But you are parked somewhere safe, correct?"

**"Yes. I'm down the street at the bottom of the hill where-…in a parking lot."** I heard the falter in her voice and while it confirmed my earlier suspicions, I still needed to know for certain where she was at.

"Sara, are you down the street from the place your parents once owned?" Previously, after Sara had revealed to me the nature of her upbringing, I researched her background more thoroughly. I had seen the property records for the house once owned by her father's family, as well as the eviction and property sale records from 1976. I knew exactly where to point the map to next.

She sniffed twice, and I knew she was fighting back the tears once again, but she remained calm enough to answer, **"Yes."**

It was all beginning to make sense to me; Sara's wild exclamations, the location, her unbelievable pain. She must have mistakenly reserved a room in the same establishment her parents once operated, and something happened while she was there to trigger the memories. I suddenly wished I had gone to Sara's mother when I had to chance to question her about their past. There was so much that I just didn't know, and she was likely the only person capable of answering any of those questions. Despite Sara's assertions that the woman claimed not to have those memories any longer, I felt certain that she would answer my questions, even if she would not answer Sara's.

I swallowed my regret and asked another question, "Sara…is that where you stayed last night?"

The tremble in her voice had grown, but she was still holding on, **"Yes."**

Drawing in a deep breath, I slowly expelled it and some of the tension building in my shoulders before forging on ahead. This was dangerous territory, and I had to be very careful with the things I said and asked. "Do you want to tell me what happened this morning?"

**"No."** Her answer was eerily cool, and I knew this would be a fight.

"Then can I as-"

**"But I will."** I was frozen mid-word by her quiet declaration.

"Only if you think you're ready, Sara… I don't want to you to force it." I needed this to be her decision alone. She needed to know that I was willing to live with whatever she offered. I knew that now Sara needed to know my feelings for her were without limits or conditions.

After several moments of silence, broken only by her deliberate breathing, she began, in that voice that told me she was trying to distance herself from the things she said. **"I didn't recognize it when I got here. I drove in from San Francisco and went straight to the house, so I never went on the hill. They've done a lot of work on the house; different color, different trim, an addition, redone the porch, the whole works. But it was weird, because when I walked inside to check-in, it felt…off. Like there was more to the place than I was seeing." **

There was a long pause as she gathered her thoughts again, and I simply waited with my heart in my throat. **"Went to my room, slept through the night, and woke up really early. All the time changes have really messed with my sleep schedule. When I got up, I looked out of the window in my room, and I suddenly felt this horrible, weirdly familiar gnawing in my stomach. I thought it was because I hadn't eaten in a while, so I went to the closet to get my suitcase out." **

She stopped there, and I heard her hands fumble with the phone. I assumed that she was trying to wipe away the tears from the sounds coming through the phone. I knew that the next thing she said was going to rip my heart out of my chest.

**"It was still there. Like no one had ever seen it, or thought about covering it up or anything." **

Her soft sobs were the next thing I heard, and it tore me up. I wanted to be able to reach out to her, cover her hand with mine, gently pull her into my arms, and wipe all of her hurt away. Instead, I only had the tenuous connection of the phone line. My voice was my only tool, and I had to use whatever I had to reach her. "I'm still here, Sara, and all of this is in the past, Honey. You just need to get it out. Let it go, Sara. Tell me what it was."

**"It was…the same closet."** I held my breath waiting for her to finish. My mind was a swirling mass of scenarios, none of them good, and I just needed to know so that I could try to comfort her from this pain. **"The closet Jack used to lock me in when-…when it started getting really bad. I was in Jack's room."**

**"I always thought it was my safe place. Nothing bad could get me in there. I could sleep without nightmares. I could read my books in the window and see the water. I could draw and paint my pictures, and they would never get torn up or ruined. I could cry and no one would tell me to stop being a baby or yell at me. But when it got…bad, it was the only place I could…hide."** In my mind, I saw a scared, fragile little girl, hiding away from the waking nightmares of a violent home, buried in the back of a dark closet, locked away from the screaming, the hitting, the agony, and of a brave little boy desperately trying to spare his little sister from the torment, and that was when my tears would no longer hold back.

Choking back my emotions, I painfully asked, "Sara, what was still the closet?"

That eerie quiet was back, and I waited as Sara struggled with what she had to say. **"One night, not long before we moved, Jack locked me in there, but he didn't have time to give me my flashlight, so it was really dark. I used to be scared of the dark, but I was more scared of what was outside. The only thing I had was the little penknife Jack gave me for my birthday that week. Nervously, I took it out and started tracing on the floorboards the words that I kept repeating in my head, over and over." **

I didn't want to know what had been her little girl mantra, but I had to know. "What were the words, Sara?"

It took a few more moments before she whispered with a rehearsed slowness, **"Please don't kill us." **

There was nothing left for me to do, and so I cried. Six hundred miles between us, and we cried together for the little girl who feared for her life, and for the life of her brother. We cried for the innocence she was never allowed to have. We cried for the pain she endured. We cried for all of the pain that followed and all of the pain that continued to affect her life and our lives together. We cried until it seemed like the tears would never stop again.

When I finally felt the pleading eyes of our beloved dog as he tried to sneak his head in under my hand, I realized that our combined pain was palpable enough for even Hank to feel. I crouched down on the floor beside him and held Hank the way I could not hold Sara right then.

Once I had calmed myself enough to let go of my whimpering companion, I wiped the last tears from my eyes and cleared my throat. Now was time to help Sara. My pain would be healed when she was able to return, this was about helping her.

"Are you okay?" I could hear her struggle to regain control of herself as she blew her nose and wiped away the tears once more.

**"I'm still here… Does that count?" **There was an uncomfortable laugh that followed her question, and I felt relief at her ability to try and find some humor.

"It counts… It counts a lot." I knew it was ridiculous, but I thought I could actually hear her smile with my comment.

**"Thank you." **

I had a pretty good idea about what, but I still asked, "What for?"

**"For everything. When I called, I just wanted to forget the whole thing. I wanted to come home and pretend like none of this was real. It works for my mother, so why not just leave it alone and never think about it again."** She heaved a huge sigh and I could tell that she was feeling stronger. **"I thought I would tell you I was coming home and all was well. I honestly thought I could lie to you, to myself, and go on like none of this mattered. But-"** The tightness was back in her voice, and I waited for her to finish. **"But then I heard your voice. You sounded so very far away. Like my life with you was a million miles from where I was, and then you started talking. I knew that I owed it to you to finish. That I've already put you through so much, and to lie to you now would be the biggest mistake of my life."**

"Sara, I-"

**"Let me finish…"** I heard her draw in a sharp breath, and I held mine as I waited for her to continue. **"I'm sorry, but I need to get this out. When I'm done you can tell me all the things I did wrong, okay?"** Hearing her accusation cut me to the quick, and I realized that we both still had a lot of work to do in this relationship. **"Sorry, that didn't come out right. I just need to say this before I lose my courage." **

My pride sufficiently in check, I gave my consent. "Go ahead."

**"Thank you."** She stopped for a moment, and I knew she was working against her frustration to continue. I was still trying to figure out that careful balance of when to say something, and when to just listen. And when it came to Sara, I was even worse at making that decision.

**"I know I've hurt you. And a few times, it was probably on purpose. Those times are the ones that scare me more than anything. To know that I can inflict that kind of pain on another person; that such blackness can exist in me. That's why I left when I did. I saw just how black the inside of my heart had become, and I was afraid of what that meant for us, for me. I didn't want you to see that in me, I didn't want to see it in myself, but the thought of exposing that darkness to you was the most frightening thing I could think of. I was sure that if you saw it, even once, I would lose you forever. It seems irrational now, but that was how I felt."** My arms ached to wrap around her and show her with their strength that I was never going to leave her, but my head knew that there was so much more left to be said, and so I waited.

**"Gil, I've spent my whole life trying to live down my past. Even as a child I had to deal with that. The looks of pity on the faces of the guests after one of my parents' fights got too loud to ignore. The teachers in Modesto that asked me why my parents never showed up for school conferences. The nurses in the ER who would shake their heads while one of us was being patched up. The kids in school who never invited me to their parties. They all knew, they all saw it, and they did nothing. And then I saw the guilt on their faces when I was taken out of the house that night. I had to live all of that shame, that guilt, that pity down. Even when people didn't know about my past, it was still there, like a ghost, driving me on."** She stopped for a moment, but I was too afraid to speak, and so I waited.

**"By the time I got to Berkeley for grad school, I thought I had gotten past all of that. I thought I was living my life, free from the past. I had friends, I had my studies, I had a good job, but it was all a lie. I knew it was a lie, but I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to be normal. Well, as normal as an over-achieving clean freak insomniac could be. I didn't want to be that girl anymore; that girl with the tragic past. And then I met you."** I heard the deliberate swallow through the phone and I prepared for the worst.

**"You made me realize how much more there was out there, that I could use my skills, or talents, or whatever to help people. I could actually prevent another little girl from being that silent witness. I could bring to justice the people who stole their innocence. I could be a part of the solution, and that made me want to break out of my carefully constructed shell of emotional isolation. The problem was…that shell was protecting me from a lot of things, not just my past. It protected me from the truth, too." **

There was a deep sigh, and I waited for her to be ready to continue. **"The other night, before we talked on the computer… I had dinner with an old co-worker. It was nothing special, just a couple of old friends meeting at an old hangout. The problem was that it was the same hangout all the old crew met at, so we ran into this jackass who managed to weasel his way into a supervisor's job. Anyway, he started going on and on about the lab there and then he said something that knocked me over. Apparently there was some kind of pool going when I started there about how long before our boss chased me off, because he only ever hired women he wanted to nail. All this time I had been operating under the assumption that I was hired based on my abilities and this bastard tells me that I was just another piece of ass. Then he tells me that if I think I'm gonna get hired back now, I'd better switch teams to get the job, since the new boss was a woman. But the worst part, the person I was having dinner with laughed right along with him. How could I have ever trusted people like that? How could I have never known that people thought that way about me? It was a really hard pill to swallow. To know that I was so blinded back then, that I wouldn't have seen that. So, when you told me about how we met, I think I overreacted. It just hit a little too close to home, and I was suddenly afraid that I'd been wrong about you, too. When I had time to think about it, as I drove out here, I knew I was wrong. I know your heart, and you could never be so cold, or that cruel. I was writing you an apology when I fell asleep last night, but I wanted you to know that I am sorry about cutting you off. I hope you can understand." **

I felt relief and regret all at the same time. I was relieved to know that I had not done anything to hurt Sara, but I hated the fact that I could do anything that would put me in the same league as such a callous and insensitive person. "It's okay. I was just worried I had done something wrong. And regardless of what that idiot told you, I know for a fact that you were not hired as a conquest. The director of the lab called me personally to ask about my letter of recommendation." It was all that I had to offer in the way of comfort, but I hoped it would be enough.

**"Thank you for that. It still hurts, to know that it's what people were thinking, but the truth feels a lot better."** The sigh she released then was like a balm to my heart. But I knew there was more to come, and so I waited.

**"At the same time, the truth also scares me to death. I keep thinking about how ready I was to turn my back on the truth, and just pretend the past wasn't there. I said before, that it seems to work for my mother… Well, that's a lie. It doesn't work for her." **

**"When I stay with her in San Francisco, it's not any different than staying at a hotel. She's there, but she's not. She goes to work, she eats, she sleeps…and she drinks. If I'm lucky, she says more than five words to me in a day, and even those I have to drag out of her. About once a year, I've tried to get her to talk to me about…before, but it always ends with me walking out and not seeing her again for another year. I can't even tell her about Jack and the girls and Melissa, because she doesn't hear me, she won't hear me. Jack is part of the past now and she doesn't do the past."** The pain I heard in those last words was unbearable. It hurt me to know that Sara was facing all of this on her own, and that there was nothing I could do about it.

**"For a few minutes, I honestly thought I could do it, just shut down my connection to the past and go on like nothing ever happened. Your voice, your words, they reminded why I could never do that, and I just lost it. It was all coming down on me, all at once, and I was so afraid. Afraid of what I could have done to me; to you. Without even thinking or trying, I nearly became my mother. I almost brought that hell into our home, and just the thought of that broke me down." **

The tears were back, but the tone of her voice was somehow different; stronger, more certain. **"I know now… I have a lot more work to do. I have to move on and to do that, I have to make peace with the past. I need to figure out what it is that makes me want to shut it all out, because if I don't, I'll truly become the one thing that has haunted me my entire life; my mother." **

My heart pounded in my ears as I listened to the silence that followed her explanation; her declaration. It felt like she was leaving me all over again, only this time she was already gone, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I fought to push aside the knot in my stomach, as well as the lump in my throat in order to speak. "Sara… I-"

**"There's nothing else to say right now. Thank you for not letting me give in to the fear. Your words…your strength…they've always meant so much to me, Gil. I know I've not always been very good at expressing that, or accepting it for that matter, but they have always been important to me."** She moved around in the car, and I heard the bells as she turned the key in the ignition. **"I need to go back to the house, get my things, and give that horrible woman a piece of my mind."**

Suddenly filled with desperation, I was forced to ask, "Sara, what are you doing? Where are you going?"

**"I'm not sure yet. But I need to figure this stuff out, and until I do, I don't think I'm really going to know anything for certain. I hope you can understand. I just can't keep running from these ghosts. I know now that they will never rest, so I guess I need to find a way to live with them, if I'm ever truly going to live. Thank you, for everything. I love you, Gil. That will never change." **

"Sara, I lov-" As I hurriedly spat out the words, I heard the click on the phone and knew that it was done.

I had helped Sara to overcome her fear of that place, of her past, and in doing so, I released her into the world to find her place in it. There was nothing else I could say, nothing else I could do, and so I waited.

It was my turn, and no matter how long it took, I would wait for her. However, I needed to move on as well. I could no longer afford to mourn for her, because she wasn't really gone. I needed to continue my life, my work, and hope that one day she would return to me and we could begin again. All I had to do was wait.


	12. Chapter 12

**_DISCLAIMER:_** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

R**_ATING:_** T – Teen

**_SPOILERS:_** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck

**_PAIRINGS: _**GSR

**_SUMMARY:_** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**A/N:** I have been completely blown out of the water with the responses I've received from this story. Judging by your replies, it would appear to me that I was not the only person struggling to come to terms with the episode that led to the story being written. Writing this story has been my way of dealing with the aftermath of Sara's departure. My fondest hope is that she returns as quickly as possible and we all get back the show that we've loved and loved to hate over the last 8 years. Thank you for your continued support as I write this.

**_REVIEWS:_** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

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**Chapter 12 **

When I returned to work there was no mention of my attitude or my mood from before. The shifts went by, the evidence was collected and processed, some cases were closed, and some justice was doled out. I filled out paperwork, filed reports, compiled statistics, and performed all of my administrative duties with great proficiency. Life went on.

Hank and I settled into the routine set in place before the world changed, and we were comfortable with that. We took our walks, we shared the bed, we ate the way we were taught to eat, and lived up to our responsibilities to one another. Life went on.

It wasn't easy, living this life that was set out by another, but I knew that I needed to go on with it. There was no telling when Sara would return, or even if she would ever come home, and while I would wait for her until the end of my days, life had to go on. And so it did.

I still looked in my email every time I was near a computer. I still looked for the mail to arrive every day. I still hoped to hear the phone ring whenever I was home. But I didn't hold up my life to do these things. My world revolved around my work, and my dog, not on the correspondences I hoped to receive from the woman who carried with her my heart.

As I left work at the end of another very long shift Catherine stopped me. She wanted to know if I had heard from Sara lately, and she wasn't going to let up until I gave her what she wanted. Catherine could be a very determined woman when the mood struck her, and I knew I would have to tell her something. I let her know that we have been communicating, and that Sara was working very hard to get through this thing. She finished her interrogation by reminding me just how long it had been since Sara's departure, and how she didn't think Ecklie would allow HR to keep this up after the three month mark.

I knew that Catherine meant well, because she truly believes that I don't ever think about these kinds of things. The fact was that I had already printed off a copy of the Employee Status Change form. When I realized that Sara was not likely to return anytime in the near future, I knew a hard decision needed to be made. In my briefcase was a copy of the status form and the COBRA form for her insurance. While I knew that she couldn't stay on the payroll indefinitely, I was not about to leave her unprotected. As a supervisor, I needed to let her go, but as a man who loved her deeply, I could at least enable her to retain her health insurance.

Driving through the city that morning, I was struck by the stark nature of Las Vegas in the faint light of dawn. It was a city of concrete, colored glass, immorality and pain, but it was also a city of dreams. There were dreams of a better life, of starting over, of making it big. It was a city filled with the broad ranges on the spectrum of life, and somewhere in the middle was the real Las Vegas, the hard-working people that just wanted to provide a good life for themselves and their families. It was those people I worked for every day. I worked for them, because I wanted to be one of them. That was my dream, amidst the concrete, the lights and the desert sands. But my dreams were tied to the coattails of a woman struggling to find the peace that would enable her to return to this stark city of incredible highs and devastating lows.

On my way home, I stopped at the bakery to pick up something to eat. I wasn't in the mood to fix anything, so I decided that a quick bagel would be enough to allow me some sleep. I went ahead and picked up a half dozen of the round boiled dough treats. The woman behind the counter shook her head as she loaded the bagels into the bag. I knew that look; it was pity. I was just another pathetic bachelor to her, because she couldn't possibly know that I was just a man in waiting.

I had to get Hank from the sitters before going home. Working another set of doubles, I knew that he would need more care than I would be able to provide for my companion, and so I arranged for the sitter to take him until I was done. Lately, it seemed as though Hank spent as much time at the sitters as he did at the house. Neither of us was happy with the arrangement, but it was all we had to work with at the moment.

When we got to the house, I parked on the street, because Hank was very anxious as we approached the house. As we got out of the car I saw why. Our friend Henry was walking up to the car when I turned around.

He smiled and tipped his hat to us when he said, "Good morning, Dr. G. Looks like you made it home today… Must've been a slow night for the crooks in Vegas."

Henry handed me the mail and I nodded as he bent down to greet my canine friend. "Even the criminals have to take a night off now and then, Henry."

"Well, glad you could make it home again, Dr. G. You two have yourselves a good walk. And make sure Hank leaves that little girl around the corner alone. She's no good for him." Henry waved as he walked away, and I smiled at the man's attempt at humor. We both knew that the dog around the corner wasn't the issue. However, the lonely divorcée she belonged to was most assuredly dangerous to any man passing by.

Hank was still acting anxious, so I dropped the mail into the car and decided to take him on his walk before doing anything else. The sitter must have missed his morning constitutional.

The morning air served as a solid wakeup call while we went on our normal Monday route. We walked to the end of the block, two blocks to the left, through the greenway, two blocks to the left through the neighborhood, and then back to the house from the opposite end of our block. It wasn't a long walk, but it was effective. Our long walks took place on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and on the weekends.

As we neared the house Hank was still acting up. He was a normally well-behaved animal, but once in a while he would get a wild hair and there was nothing I could do about it, except to keep him from getting completely out of control.

I stopped at the car to retrieve my case, the mail and the bagels before heading towards the front door. Hank pulled at the leash enough to strip it from my hand and I was forced to give him a vocal command to stop his advance on the door. When I caught up with him, I asked, "What's gotten into you, boy? You've been gone like this before. You can't possibly be homesick, can you?"

Hank struggled with his nature to violate the command, but he remained in his sitting position until I gave him the release command. As I did, he moved to walk closely at my side, still desperate to get into the house, but wanting to stay in my good graces. Shaking my head, I slipped the key into the lock and turned the handle.

Pausing before I pushed open the door, I sighed. This was the hardest part of my day; coming home to an empty house. Before I could summon the strength, Hank started to paw at the door, taking the decision out of my hands.

Once inside, he tore off through the house to reach the living room. I had gotten him a new butcher bone before he went to the sitters, and we forgot to take it, so I decided he must have been in a real hurry to secure the item between his gnashing jaws.

Myself, I needed to take care of my own biological need, which began to demand my attention about half way through our morning walk. However, unlike Hank, my own bladder control can be quite considerable.

After finishing up in the bathroom I glanced at the answering machine on my way to the kitchen; no messages today. When I entered the kitchen I picked the mail up and began flipping through it; the water bill, a notice of subscription renewal and a reminder card from the veterinarian's office were the highlights. Setting the incidentals back down on the counter, I kept the two cards reminding me of things to do and turned for the fridge. After tacking them up with magnets from the various take-out establishments we have been known to frequent, I opened the door and started fishing around for the cream cheese.

I sliced a bagel in two and placed the halves into the toaster before I set about to prepare Hank's food. It only took a minute to assemble the concoction that had become his normal morning fare. After I put his dish on the floor and removed the now crispy bagel from the toaster, I noticed that Hank had not come prancing into the kitchen to eat. I knew that bone would hold a place in his heart, until he had completely destroyed the thing anyway, but he was rarely one to ignore his food.

"Hank! Get in here and eat, boy. I don't want any of your midnight snacking in bed today." As I started to spread the cream cheese over the warm bagel I heard his feet tapping over the floor when he finally decided to join me in the kitchen. Looking down, I praised my housemate for his choice. "Good boy… We have to keep our strength up, Hank. No more moping, remember?"

He looked up at me with what I could only describe as a smile and it lightened my own mood a little. Just as I was about to return my attention to my own breakfast, Hank looked away. But instead of going back to his food, he looked behind him toward the living room. I couldn't imagine that ridiculous bone was really that engaging, so I followed his gaze. I followed it to a pair of feet standing at the end of the counter, and I froze.

"I ah…I think that might've been my fault…so don't be too mad at him." Unconsciously, my eyes rose in an instant to find the source of that voice. I was sure that it couldn't possibly be what my mind was telling me it was, and I had to see it with my own eyes before I could even dare to hope.

The moment my eyes caught the first painfully familiar freckle on her chin, I dropped the knife from my hand. As they scanned the features of the face before me I felt like the whole world was rapidly coming back into a focus, one freckle at a time. When they found the faint traces of scars on her face my heart began to pound in my chest. But when they finally glimpsed the barely trembling, up-turned right corner of her mouth, the sound of the blood pumping through my body practically deafened me.

My feet began to move my body forward, because my mind was stuck on a single loop of thought; _Please let this be real, Please let this be real, Please let this be real_. I was afraid to speak another word, frightened that even the sound of my voice would make the apparition vanish like so much smoke. The words stuck firmly in my throat behind the mass of emotion building there, I was struck silent as I approached the ghost of my heart.

In my every dream, this was how it started. She was there just waiting, and I would go to her, wrap her up in my embrace, holding her tightly to me, never wanting to let go again, whispering my desperate pleas into her hair, and when I woke, she would be gone. I was fraught with the idea that this, too, was only a dream; that the moment I took her into my arms she'd vanish completely.

My hand reached up to find out the truth, though my heart screamed to hesitate, to hold out just a while longer, on the chance that none of this was real. As my fingers touched her warm moist cheek a blush rose to the surface and she wiped at the dampness. "Sorry, I forgot all about slobbery wakeup calls when I slept on the couch."

Once all of the truths snapped into place, there was nothing left; nothing left of the pain, nothing left of the hurt, and nothing left of the distance. I had Sara in my arms, holding her to my body so that not a millimeter of space existed between us. Tears flowed from my eyes, dampening her hair, because I knew that she was real, and she was home.

It wasn't long before Hank was trying to nudge his way into our space, but this time I wasn't budging. I would happily share her later, but in that moment, she was mine and mine alone. When I refused to acknowledge his presence, Sara dropped one hand and patted the dog's head before telling him to sit. But I was only truly aware of her actions when she used that hand to stroke up and down my back.

The movement of her hand on my back was the most exquisite thing I had felt in three months. It told me that she was real, she was home, and she was mine. I hated having such possessive thoughts, but my more primal nature was in control of my mind as I squeezed just a little tighter, bringing her completely flush with my body. My Sara was home.

It took a while before I was willing and able to do more than hold tightly to this dream come true, but eventually I knew that it would be necessary for me to loosen my hold (if for no other reason, than because I was sure Sara would like to breathe again).

When I finally pulled my head up and brought it around to look into her eyes, I saw something there that I hadn't even realized was missing for so long. There was a spark behind those brandy pools, the spark that had been captivating me for so many years, the spark that I could see, even when it seemed to have died away. And seeing it now, I could do nothing else but smile.

"Hello." It seemed like such a silly thing to say, but after so many goodbyes, I needed a change.

"Hello." Sara reached up and wiped the tears from my cheeks with her hands. When she lingered over them for a moment, I felt a small pang of worry try to bubble up into my chest. But I shouldn't have worried, because Sara simply leaned in and kissed my lips, her hands holding my head in place. And while it reminded me of the kiss she left me with those many months ago, it was completely different. Her last kiss was an apology, a silent vow of regret and promise. This kiss, it was an act of pure joy and love, a silent acknowledgement of her place in my life, and a deeply emotional plea for forgiveness.

I emptied months of worry, countless hours of uncertainty, and a lifetime of love and devotion into the kiss I returned to her. In opening our mouths to deepen the kiss, we were opening our hearts to give them over completely to the other. There were simply no more barriers between us. There in the kitchen, with the dog patiently waiting for attention, our bodies entwined, we made promises of a future; a future shared in love and trust.

There were many things that astounded me throughout my lifetime, but the silent and meaningful communication that had always existed between Sara and I would never cease to bring me into a state of awe and glorious wonder. But this whole ordeal had also taught me a very valuable lesson; we could not rely on that silent communication alone, we needed to talk.

As our lips finally separated, our gasping breaths mingled in the shallow space between us. Sara laid her arms down around my neck and she pressed her forehead into my cheek. "I know…we need to talk." We both smiled at the acknowledgement of our subtle communication. "But can we do it somewhere else? I'm exhausted."

I stroked her hair and breathed in her scent with my eyes closed; relishing in the knowledge that Sara was really home. "Of course. Couch or bed?"

She looked up and caught my eye. I watched as the smirk began to form at the corner of her mouth. "Haven't we suffered enough?"

I tried to squint at her as if I were really considering her question, but the smile quickly gave me away. "Bed it is." My smooth answer was quickly interrupted by a long drawn out yawn.

Sara eyed me suspiciously for a moment and then asked the question which would most assuredly reveal my current activities. "Worked a double didn't you?"

I leaned back against the counter as she moved back to fix me with a steely glare. "Not exactly." As her eyebrow rose with my answer, I knew it was no use and I confessed my sin. "It was more like a long triple."

Shaking her head, she reached out and took my shoulders in her hands. "That settles it." Sara turned me around and began to push me towards the hall. "Go take a shower. I'll fix us some breakfast and we can meet in the bedroom."

"But…" I looked down at Hank who was following our movements with great interest. "What about him?"

Sara stopped pushing me toward the bathroom and reviewed the situation. "Did he get his bath this weekend?"

Hank looked from her to me, and I could see the anxiety on his face. After all, Sara had used his least favorite word. I smiled down at the dog and answered honestly, "In fact he was at the groomers on Friday. They even trimmed and filed his nails."

"Then he gets a reprieve, for now." She crouched down and began scratching at Hank's chest. The dog seemed to lose all anxiety with the act. As much as he liked getting his ears scratched by anyone he met, he would probably follow Sara through a river of fire if she was scratching his chest. "I think we've all picked up some bad habits that'll need breaking…later." When she smiled back up at me, my anxiety melted away as well. "But for right now, I'd kind of like to keep both of my boys close right now."

The looks that passed between us, they spoke volumes. Sara was home, and while it was painfully obvious to me that she was there for good, something in me felt compelled to ask.

I took her hand and brought her back to her feet to stand in front of me. With my arms wrapped around her, I leaned my head in and asked, "I don't want to ruin this, but I have to know…your ghosts...the journey…"

She brought a hand to my mouth and covered it with her fingers to still my questions. "It'll never be over…" I felt the tightening around my heart again as I silently prayed for a miracle. "But I'm at peace with the past, and I'm tired of trying to re-live it. It is what it is, and I've accepted that now; all of it. What I want, what I need, is to live my life, and not try to ignore the lessons the past has taught me. I realized, sitting inside that car, listening to your voice, that the only time I have any real peace is when I'm with you."

Sara replaced her fingers with her lips and followed them up with the words I will remember for the rest of my days. "No matter what was happening, spending time with my brother in Italy, playing with my nieces, hearing old stories from friends and family… Hell! Even when I was dealing with my mother's silence, I found myself thinking of you, and what you would be thinking about all of this. Thousands of miles away, ridiculous time apart, and I still wanted to be able turn to you and say thank you. And every time I did, you weren't there. I decided that I was done going it alone, because I never had to in the first place. I'm glad that I did, because it taught me that I could, but it also taught me that I didn't really want to anymore."

I let my hand graze down the side of her face, wiping away the tears which had trickled down her cheek with my thumb. As Sara leaned in to my touch, her eyes softly closed. When they opened again, they were somehow deeper. "I was always afraid of what needing you would mean to my independence, or something. But what I discovered was that I completely ignored what I wanted in the process. I don't want to be alone anymore. I don't want to do everything on my own. I want you there, with me, working with me to figure everything out. Do you think that would be all right?"

It was my turn to close my eyes. I was overcome with a joy that had been missing in my life. It was the joy of understanding and unconditional love. When I opened my eyes again, it was as though a new day had dawned. I brought my other hand up to her face, sliding them both back into her hair, and reverently laid my lips over hers, as I gave her my most sacred and solemn vow. "That's all I could have ever hoped for, Sara."

Several long moments passed between us, each in the other's arms, taking solace in the peace we both found there. Hank waited patiently at our feet, his tail occasionally tapping the floor to remind us of the time which had passed.

Eventually, the late hours and our combined fatigue brought us back to reality as another yawn escaped my body.

Sara was the first to pull out of the embrace and she quickly proceeded to send me marching on my way to the shower. "Right then, off to the showers with you."

Before she started to push me out again, I grabbed her hand, "You don't want to join me?"

Smiling at my attempt, Sara laughed, "Not this time. I took one when I got home." She turned me around and gave me a gentle pat on the rear. "Go take your shower and I'll meet you in the bedroom with breakfast."

I dutifully followed her orders and went on my way. As I washed away the course of a very long day, I had a few moments to reflect. With the steam surrounding me, I felt like I was finally finding my way through the fog of the last few months. And if I was honest, the fog had started long before; before Sara's abduction, before my sabbatical, even before my own burnout. It started the day I began to question this uncommon relationship I had with Sara.

Before she came to Las Vegas I was certain that I understood my place in her life. But that had always been a lie. I convinced myself that I knew where I stood, while in truth my mind and my heart warred with each other for years. My heart fought to keep her close, when at the same time my mind told me she was dangerous and I should keep her at arm's length. It wasn't until my mind was weakened by tragedy that my heart was finally able to take control. But even then, the mind fought back, and we struggled through even the most mundane of trials.

While I was away on sabbatical, my mind was given the hard dose of reality that with Sara was indeed where I belonged, but it took too long for me to express that to her, and then we were faced with the possibility of losing each other forever in that desert. Such things often bring about clarity, but they also inherently carry a certain level of fear. We never truly dealt with the fear, Sara and I, and like so many ghosts in our lives, we hoped it would stay hidden forever.

No matter how painful this latest separation has been, I was eternally grateful for the lessons it has taught us. And I as I shut off the water and emerged from the steam, so too did I emerge from living for the past. From this point forward, Sara and I would live our lives in the present, knowing only that the future would not be faced alone.

Wrapped up in my robe, I walked out into the bedroom and found something more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. There on the bed, curled up on the comforter, the dog snuggled up and snoring in front of her, Sara laid sleeping. My heart filled with such intense emotion as I drank in such an astounding sight; my girl, my dog, my family, my life.

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**A/N2:** Believe it or not... I'm not quite done. There's an epilogue to follow in a day or two. 


	13. Epilogue

**DISCLAIMER:** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!  
**RATING:** T – Teen  
**SPOILERS:** Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck  
**PAIRINGS:** GSR  
**STATUS:** COMPLETE  
**SUMMARY:** Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.

**A/N:** Well, here it is; the end. I have been thrilled and delighted by the response I've received during the writing and posting of this story, and I will treasure this experience for the rest of the my life. Writing this piece has been strangely cathartic, and while I have quite honestly felt possessed from time to time, I found that it was all worth it in the end. Thank you all for the wonderful comments and your amazing support as I explored these ideas.

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:** Oh, you know who you are... I just have to say that I am deeply indebted to you all for the hand holding, the sanity checks, the edits, the read throughs, the slaps and smacks that were needed along the way, and for not letting me throw the whole thing away when I came upon a stumbling block. You are all astoundingly talented, patient and damn fantastic ladies. This story is as much for you as it ever was for me. Thank you.

And for the woman who inspired this little adventure... Even if my brain is devoured by a thousand demonic plot bunnies, I will never be able to thank you enough for throwing this one in my direction. But for now, I say thank you. It's been a crazy ride, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I loved every frenzied minute of it.

**REVIEWS:** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

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**Epilogue **

There was barely any light left in the room, just the faint blue glow from the alarm clock in front of my face. The muscles that were normally stiff when I woke seemed oddly relaxed. It was almost as though I had been carrying around an immense weight that never let up, and now it was gone. It felt good.

As I went to stretch out my legs, I felt another set tangled up in them, and I suddenly remembered why I felt that good. I was home.

Carefully disentangling myself from the warm and wonderful grasp of the man sleeping beside me, I worked to get up out of the bed. As I stirred, Hank flopped his head over to look at me, and when his tail started to softly whop into the mattress, I knew he was ready to get up, too.

The two of us swiftly and quietly made our way out of the bedroom. I let the dog out the back door to take care of his business before I slipped into the hall bathroom to deal with mine. Staring into the mirror as I washed my hands I was struck by my appearance. My hair was still the mass of confusion it always was when I woke up. The fact that I hadn't gotten it cut in more than four months probably wasn't helping with the curl factor either. No, the reason I was taken aback by what I saw in the mirror was my eyes.

For so long, I felt like there was a dullness there. It was almost as though a cloud had fallen over my eyes, and I was seeing life through a fog. Now, as I gazed at myself, the haze was gone. Everything was so much clearer than it was before.

When I heard Hank chuffing at the back door, I knew I had better hurry up if I was going to get there before he started to bark. He was usually pretty good at not barking when we slept, but I thought he might be a little more anxious today. Besides, I was a little anxious myself. It had been a long time since we got to have some quality time.

The first thing I did after letting him back into the house was to reset the coffee maker. It would be another couple of hours before Gil woke up, but I knew how much he needed that first cup to start the day. After that I grabbed my suitcase from the living room and dug around for my running shoes and some shorts. The moment he saw the shoes, Hank started to prance around me. It would appear that he hadn't forgotten me after all.

Once we got outside, Hank barely let me get stretched out before he was tugging on the leash, ready to go. It felt good to open up my stride and let loose, Hank urging me faster and faster as we made our way over the greenway. When we got to the end, I walked over to the bench in the dog run area and tried to stretch out again as I cooled down from the sprint.

Feeling my own lack of sleep creeping up on me, I sat down on the bench and watched as Hank found another dog to play with for a little while. He always made friends easily and since he spent so much time alone I always indulged him by coming to the dog run.

There was calmness to a late January afternoon around here that I had missed. It wasn't hot, but it also wasn't cold. It was perfect for running, and it was pretty good for sitting on a bench to think about the events of the day to come, or reflect on the one passed. For me, it was a chance to enjoy the ease of breathing, the comfort in the familiar and the newness of it all.

Everything did seem fresh as I glanced around at my surroundings. It was new, but it wasn't. It was all the same, but I was seeing it all with clearer eyes. Suddenly filled with a need to share this newfound discovery, I whistled for Hank and got ready to race back home.

We made fantastic time, even beating the first of the street lights by mere seconds as we ran straight for the door. I wasn't sure who enjoyed the run more; me or Hank. But since my tongue wasn't hanging out while I continued to smile, I was leaning more towards the little guy currently panting against my leg as I fumbled with the keys.

Inside the cool house, we immediately hit the kitchen for some much needed water. As I downed the whole bottle in one fell swoop, I checked the timer on the coffee maker and then my watch. I had just enough time to hop in the hall shower before Gil started to rouse. And if I was lucky, I might even be able to start on the laundry that was about to escape from my suitcase of its own accord at any minute.

Normally, I would have spent the night at my mother's and gotten everything ready before driving home the next day. But after everything I had learned on my journey, the last thing I wanted was to take another step backward. My mother was the embodiment of my past. She was everything that was wrong with that world; all the apathy, the lack of caring, the substance and physical abuse, the fear, the neglect, the ignorance. I was tired of living my life in fear of and in reaction to the past. I needed to live for me, and for the future I hoped to share with Gil.

As I stepped into the shower, I remembered how scared I was when I arrived at home in the middle of the night. I was worried that he would be angry, or worse, that he didn't care at all anymore. Thinking about the pain that I must have put him through with this whole thing, I wasn't sure that I could have born it all and still welcomed me back, so I was deeply concerned about his reaction. That worry kept me from getting too comfortable as I waited for him to return, and after I quickly showered and changed into the last of my clean clothes from the suitcase, I waited on the couch. I felt strange about walking into what once was our bedroom until I knew that I was welcome in the house.

I sat down on the sofa to wait for him, but I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew there was a dog tongue doing a number on my face, and someone was running the water in the kitchen. When I heard his voice calling after the dog I thought my stomach had just found a blackhole to fall into. I was still scared, but my fear was overridden by a deeply intense need to see him, to touch him, to kiss him.

The ability to speak came only from nervous habit, because the moment I rounded the corner and saw him, I was petrified. It seemed as though he was oblivious to my presence, and I felt like maybe I had taken too long, because he appeared to be quite content with his life as it was. I was given only a glimmer of hope when he spoke to the dog. _"Good boy… We have to keep our strength up, Hank. No more moping, remember?" _

I took that as my queue and stumbled forward. Thankfully, he was still willing to catch me.

The feeling of his arms wrapped so tightly around me was the most amazing thing I could have imagined, and so much more than I ever could have hoped for upon my return. I wanted it to last forever. I didn't care if I couldn't breathe, and I didn't care if I never felt another thing, just so long as I could have that one moment of complete acceptance and love.

Breaking myself from the memories, I shut off the water and quickly toweled off from my shower to get dressed. I made quick work of the clothes in my suitcase, setting up the first load of laundry to start as soon as Gil woke up, and then I went to check on the coffee.

It was just about to finish up when I suddenly remembered the bagels from the morning. I must have fallen asleep before Gil finished with his shower, and I was sure he hadn't noticed them on the dresser waiting for him. But when I looked in the fridge, there was the whole plate, now covered in plastic wrap, just as I'd left it, only not on the dresser anymore. I smiled at his thoughtfulness; putting the food away, pulling the comforter over me, and crawling into the bed to lie beside me.

Removing the plastic, I pulled out one of the bagels to toast a new one for Gil. He always preferred his warm, so I took the one I had lightly toasted before falling asleep and covered it with cream cheese for me. When the beeper went off on the coffee maker, I poured two cups and brought breakfast on a tray into the bedroom; into our bedroom.

I couldn't get over how much better saying that in my head made me feel. I had been plodding along on this global adventure of mine, and doing it all alone. For some reason, I believed that it would only matter if I figured these things out on my own, but I couldn't believe how wrong I was. Because even though he wasn't there with me in the physical form, I took Gil with me everywhere I went. When I was in San Francisco, I thought about the times we shared there. When I was in Boston, I thought about how lonely my life had been there, in comparison to the life I shared with Gil. When I was in L.A., I couldn't help but think about the pipe bomb experiments we performed, and how much he would have loved to have been a part of what I was doing. When I was in Norfolk, I wondered if what Melissa was feeling about Jack's troubles was the same way Gil felt about mine. When I was in Italy, I wanted to have him there with me on every new discovery, and I wanted him to see what a wonderful, yet flawed man my brother turned out to be; I wanted him to see the hope I saw when I looked at my nieces. And when the darkness finally caught up to me, and I was struggling to keep my head above water as I stared at the house from my nightmares, I wanted him there to rescue me. What I found was that he was there, not to rescue me, but to support me through the pain and to help guide me back into the light. No matter where I went, or what I did, he was there, in my thoughts, and in my heart.

That was when I realized what an idiot I had been. I wasn't protecting him from anything while I struggled through this journey. I was trying to hide the darkness inside of me from him, and punishing myself for having it in the first place. Once I understood what was really happening, I started working my way back to him.

My first order of business was to confront the awful woman running the bed and breakfast started by my parents. I hadn't met her when I checked in, because it was in the evening and her brother, who was manning the desk while she went to play cards or something (I wasn't really paying attention to the man at the time), got me settled. When I came down from my room the next morning, she was too busy telling tales to the guests in the breakfast room to notice me. I listened as she told them about the beginnings of the place, and of the hideous history associated with the family that once owned the house.

The woman talked about my father with such authority that I might have believed her, if I hadn't been his daughter. She talked about the deranged son of a wealthy family back east, who sent him here to keep anyone they knew from being subjected to his eccentricities. In hushed tones, she spoke about his twisted children who were the source of his madness, and about his homely wife who whiled away her days emptying out the liquor cabinets. I was angry and horrified for the poor family being subjected to her mudslinging, until I suddenly realized she was talking about me, about us. Already upset by my discovery in the closet, I ran out of there and got into my car, completely forgetting about my things up in the room.

Once I was back in my right mind, following my conversation with Gil, I knew that this woman needed to be stopped. When I walked into the house, I finally noticed the names on the plaque at the desk and I recognized them. They were the children who lived at the bottom of the hill, the ones who would tease my brother and me every day on our way home from school. Their father ran the hardware store where my father went to purchase supplies to make repairs on the house when we lived there. I always hated going to the hardware store with him, almost as much as he hated it himself. My father claimed that Mr. Jenkins never had prices on anything so that he could charge according to his whim. He was sure the man was a cheat. My father hated Mr. Jenkins, and I hated his children with all the rancor my little heart could hold at such a young age.

Unnoticed, I went straight upstairs and got my things together When I came back downstairs she was behind the desk talking to another of the guests. She plastered on one of those intensely fake smiles that always made my skin crawl and greeted me, but I didn't waste any time on her forced pleasantries. I told her I was checking out, and that I was likely to never return now that I knew who ran the place.

The other people standing there shifted uncomfortably, but I really didn't care about them. I informed her that perhaps she should save the gossip mongering and slander for the dead, because the living have things like attorneys. I also told her that if she had ever done more than throw rocks at lonely children, she might not still be stuck in the same town she grew up in, living off her father's greed. When I signed the guestbook as I left, I made sure she knew exactly who she was dealing with.

_Sara Sidle, Daughter of Daniel and Laura Sidle, the twisted one with a lawyer on retainer. _

It was probably the first time in my life that I was truly proud of where I had come from. And it was also the first time I had felt connected to my parents since I was a little girl.

As I drove away from that place for the very last time, I tried to remember my father for the man that he was; a frustrated dreamer with little patience for following all the rules or doing most of the work. I wanted to remember my father as a good man, but the truth kept me from going that far. He was a shiftless drunk, who never should have had a family. He was very short-tempered when he drank, and in the end all he did was drink and lash out at the world. But no matter what, regardless of what he did or didn't do, he was still my father…and I loved him. That's why it all still hurt so much.

My relationship with my mother was far more complex and strained. At least my father was always predictable; when you saw the bottle, you knew to stay clear and stay quiet. And if you forgot that simple rule, he was quick to remind you. I still have the small scar on my cheek from one of those reminders. But with my mother, you never really knew what you were going to get. She would alternate between moods so fast it would make your head spin, and you never knew if you were coming home to Betty Crocker, the flower child, or Joan Crawford on a bender (depending on her drug of choice at the time). And yet, at the same time, I couldn't really blame her either, because she left the only life she knew to follow my father across the country and then forced to deal with his failures and abuses.

We were never close, and after my father was gone, there was no way we could ever trust each other enough to change that. I tried when I moved back to San Francisco after Harvard, but it just didn't work out. Jack hasn't spoken to her since he left for the Navy when he was eighteen, and says he's never apt to again. He blames her for what happened, and while I can see his point, the truth is that they were just two people never meant to be together, let alone have kids. We were simply the by-product of a seriously screwed up relationship between two lazy, self-absorbed people.

Thinking about my parents reminded me of the man sleeping soundly on the bed before me. I sat in the chair by the window, sipping at my coffee as I watched him sleep. I remembered to set the alarm, just in case I didn't get back in time from my run. He usually woke up before the last minute alarm, but I didn't want him to be late to work either.

I always liked watching Gil like that, there was something very peaceful about the way he slept. When he was asleep, the whole world vanished for him, and waking was almost like a rebirth. He started each day anew, and I envied him that. To know that he could put it all away and dream, to wake up refreshed and ready to do it again.

It hasn't always been that way though. Before his sabbatical, he had a terrible time sleeping, and I would often find him back at work long before the alarm was set to go off. That was how I knew just what that trip had meant to him. His first night back he slept straight through and even smiled a little in his dreams. That was when I knew he was truly home.

He also struggled with his sleep when I came home from the hospital. I would wake to find him sitting in the chair by the bed, just watching me, and a few times, when he did sleep, he would wake the both of us up screaming from a nightmare. We shared that problem for a little while.

I watched as he slowly brought his arm up the length of the bed. I knew he would wake the moment his brain told him he was alone. I also knew what that would feel like to him, because I had been experiencing the same thing every morning for the last three months.

We'd both endured enough pain for now, so I set down my cup and crawled back up onto the bed beside him. When I ran my hand up along the inside of his arm, his eyes slowly opened as the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. "That tickles."

"It's still the best way to wake you up." I tried to affect a serious look, but it was completely ruined when he took my other arm and pulled me down into the mattress as a tiny yelp erupted from my throat.

Quickly covering my body with his own his lips found mine and I was lost for a few moments in their warm comfortable caress. As he pulled back, a slightly impish smile formed on his face when he informed me, "The second best."

I reached up and pushed the rumpled curls off of his forehead. "Agreed." We stayed that way, just staring into each other's eyes, for a while.

With my head pushed down between the pillows, I began to smell something that was definitely not coffee. I reached back to find a soft fabric hidden beneath the pillow. When I pulled it out from behind me I nearly cried. I had finally been reunited with my favorite t-shirt, only it didn't quite look, or smell, the same as when we were separated.

Gil quickly took it out of my hands and threw it off the bed. When he looked back at me he shrugged sheepishly and said, "I tried to warn you."

I just couldn't help it. The smile that spread over my face was completely automatic. "I didn't think you were serious!" My laughter filled the room at the bashful look on Gil's face.

My laughter died out when I saw the serious expression fall over his face soon after. He pulled the hair away from my neck and laid it out on the pillow beside me. As his hand began to caress the side of my face, I felt drawn to the sensation and leaned in to the touch. "Next time…"

I felt the words tremble out of his body, and when they caught in his throat, it reminded me that we still had a lot of hurt left to heal. With my fingers, I silenced the rest of that thought before he could muster the strength to finish it. "There won't be a next time…ever."

"Promise?"

Reaching my head up, I pressed my lips to his, savoring in the warm spice of his mouth, before I pulled him down to rest his ear over my chest. "With every beat of my heart."


End file.
